diezynueve

3->Based on the video game. Glenn told Lee he wanted to help his friends, who were trapped in Atlanta. He never found his friends but made some new ones. After he and Noah manage to escape the Grady Memorial Hospital, Glenn decides to go back to Macon, to the place where he belonged. In a nutshell: a merge of the show's and videogame's stories through Glenn.

4->The end of the world is not easy for anybody, especially not for young girls. Especially not for young girls who run themselves ragged trying to keep an entire group fed and alive while not being acknowledged at all. In a nutshel: what would've have happened if Glenn had been born a girl.

MAIN GOAL OF THESE STORIES:

1-> To explore Glenn’s capability for platonic love, taking the found-family trope to new heights within twd. Having a helpless person depend on him forces Glenn to mature faster, and reshapes his worldview and some of his actions due to higher responsibility.

2-> To explore how much the people around us can get to us, and the formation of bonds under dire circumstances with people we never believed possible. It also delves into Glenn’s “cyberpunk” side (using videogame analogies to dissociate and excuse cruelty).

3-> To explore Glenn’s influence as an active cohesion mechanism for a different survivor group with a different journey than Rick’s. He's just one person but his precense or absence completely changes the fate of these two communities.

4-> To explore how gender shapes the way we act and the way we’re perceived. Lenna takes on the same role as Glenn but with a different perspective.

BACKSTORIES:

1-> Same as show Glenn. Family in Michigan, sisters, pizza delivery boy, no car stealing mentioned.

2-> Comic book Glenn. Rocky relationship with parents, estranged with his sisters, pizza delivery boy for a while, then car stealer for money and for fun, drowning in debt.

3-> Videogame Glenn. Family from Macon, no mention of his relationship with siblings or parents. Knows tricks to steal cars. Has friends in Atlanta, important enough to him to go looking for them into the deadly city.

4-> Still to be determined. Probably a mix of 1 and 2.

It gave up. The RV’s radiator hose, after twelve hours on the road, officially gave up. They were trying to figure out what to do when Jacqui ran out of the RV. 

“Y’all! Jim. It’s bad.”

Unfortunately, it seemed like hope was also giving up on them. They were still a few hours from the CDC, but they were out of time.

“Why are we stopping?” A high-pitched voice asked behind him, startling Glenn a little.

“Weren’t you in the pickup?”

“Yeah, but I left." Polly replied cheekily. “Did we stop because Jim is as good as dead? Daryl said that.”

“That’s mean.” Glenn replied automatically. Then, he thought of the last he’d taken a good look at the man’s face and, sadly, he did look like he already had a foot in the other world. “Jim’s not doing so good, but don’t say that.”

“Glenn!” Shane’s booming voice called out from somewhere. “Mind coming here a sec?”

*

The run to the gas station was an easy deal. They found two geeks outside, which T-Dog took care of, and Glenn inspected the place. He pocketed a pack of gum from the counter—they took long to go bad and served to mask hunger for a bit. They didn’t find a replacement hose, but they found something else.

“Hey, T-Dog. You think this will do?” The other man approached to see what Glenn was holding. It was a hot-silicon pistol.

“It could work. If only until the silicon melts, but it might get us to the CDC.”

When they made it back to the caravan, they were told that Jim had given up and wanted to be left on the side of the road.

Glenn couldn’t believe that anyone would ever want that, but the others swore up and down that, even though they didn’t like it either, that was what Jim had asked them to do. So they carried Jim outside and rested him against a tree.

Glenn was uncomfortable, if nothing else. He knew he ought to feel grieved, but aside from that, how do you act in the face of a man who’s about to die? What do you say?

In the end, he didn’t say anything. He sucked and chewed at his own lips to keep himself from crying, gave Jim the respectful nod, and went back to the RV.

The journey resumed with a significantly somber vibe, but Glenn wasn’t allowed to sit with his thoughts on the matter for long. Whenever Polly wanted to tell Glenn something, or got bored, she would use her walkie to call him.

“Glenn,” She whined. “Are we there yet?” She asked for the fourth time.

“It should be right over to the left.” He answered, checking the map, at the same time pointing the way for Dale. They soon came across the modern building that housed the Center for Disease Control. Rick told them to park and, against their better judgement, they all left the vehicles.

Glenn grabbed Polly’s hand and kept close to the others. They strode up to the front doors as the sun went down. Rick and Shane tried to get them open, but the place was shut.

“Walkers!” Daryl raised the alarm and those with guns formed a protective circle around those without.

Things got chaotic when Shane yelled for everyone to go back to the cars while Rick desperately demanded an imaginary someone to open the doors.

Glenn looked from one to the other, holding Polly close and making sure that no walker got to them. Rick started banging on the shutters like a maniac; any walker that hadn’t spotted them yet, sure knew where they were now.

He’s lost it.

That night was a mess. After no one had more tears to cry, the cussing and the explanation-demanding started. Rick told the others what they'd found on the rooftop and Shane confirmed they hadn’t seen the cube van nor Merle near camp previous to the attack. That left them with no real culprit, just a pack of walkers wandering into the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Without meaning to, his eyes darted towards Andrea, who wouldn’t let anyone close to her withering sister. They didn’t know exactly how long it took for someone to turn but, whatever that was, the countdown had already started.

T-Dog noticed and looked over there too. “What do you think we should do about that?”

Glenn tried to put himself in Andrea’s shoes, but that meant putting someone he cared about in Amy’s shoes. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He shook the image out of his head and took two deep breaths; in, and out. “I don’t want to think.” He told T-Dog.

To the left, he noticed Morales and Daryl dragging Johnny’s corpse to the bonfire they’d left lit to get rid of the infected—the ones that had been dead for a while. That, clearly, wasn’t Johnny’s case.

“Hey, w—what are you guys doing? This is for geeks.” He pointed towards the pickup. “Our people go over there.”

“What’s the difference? They’re all infected.” Daryl muttered. Those words felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped on Glenn. He’d never felt so offended on someone else’s behalf. How could Daryl be so callous?

“Our people go in that row over there.” Glenn repeated, voice unsteady, shaking with rage. “We don’t burn them!”

Daryl gave him the trademark Dixon 'piss-off' look, but Glenn didn’t care. “We bury them. Understand?” He didn’t look away until Daryl —very reluctantly— took Johnny with the recently deceased.

Glenn tried to stow his anger away. But then, Daryl said “You reap what you sow. You all left ma brother for dead! You had this comin’!” And Glenn couldn’t take it anymore.

He took himself down to the lake, and hid behind some rocks. He cleaned his hands as much as possible from all the dirt and grime and then threw some water on his head to cool it, but it didn’t really work. As his hands dragged down his face, he let out a long, shuddering exhale.

Is that really how it is now? Once we die we’ll become a burden for others, and nothing will matter?

Behind him, he heard the pitter-patter of small steps approaching.

Polly sat on the outcrop, her legs dangling from the rock. When Glenn didn’t acknowledge her, she went even closer and copied his posture, tucking her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees. 

“Are you sad?” She asked, because he still wouldn’t talk.

Glenn thought his current feelings were a bit more complicated than that, but he wouldn’t know how to put them into words anyway so he just nodded.

“Me too. Have you ever been to a funeral?”

He nodded again and murmured “Grandma’s”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” There was a silence as they both stared at their reflection on the water. “I’ve never been to a funeral.”

“You don’t have to. We could stay here.” Glenn offered.

The man, G, made a gesture towards Glenn. “Get this one to the roof.”

“Wait.” Glenn pleaded as the Latino goons closed in on him. “We can talk about this.”

He got immobilized, got a piece of duct tape slapped over his mouth, a bag put over his head, and was pushed about through hallways and stairs. When the bag was pulled off, Glenn found himself staring at a thirty-feet drop. Down there, he could see Daryl, crossbow at the ready, and Rick, with his shotgun trained on some boy’s back.

In the end, there was no trade made, and Rick left the factory exactly as he’d gotten there.

They took Glenn to another room where G was already waiting for them.

“Sorry about that.” The man said without losing his swagger. “Your cop, you said he was a good man. How well can you attest to that?”

“I—I dunno, I met him yesterday and—” The moment he said that, the atmosphere in the room shifted. 

G’s face fell. The others started looking at each other, anxious, and Felipe started pacing.

“Ay Dios…” He turned to G. “We should’ve taken Miguel when we had the chance!”

“Wait. What are you saying?” Glenn jumped up. “You think they’re not coming back?”

“We’ll prepare a rescue for Miguel.” G said, trying to look confident. “Take este to the back.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” G looked Glenn up and down. “He doesn’t seem like the type to stab an old man.”

That sentence only started making sense once Glenn found out what “the back” was. 

The factory had a path that somehow connected with the backyard of a nursery home, which still had residents. Glenn couldn’t believe what he was seeing, it was too surreal, with everything that was happening, so he just sat himself in a corner to wait.

Then, one of the old men started doing weird gestures. It took a moment for Glenn to realize that the man couldn’t breathe. He ran over there, but he had no idea what to do. “Nurse!”

More people started approaching, offering advice that the gasping man was in no state to understand. Finally, Doña Carmen was back with Felipe and, thank God, he had an inhaler.

“What is this?”

“An asthma attack.” It took a moment for Glenn to realize the one to ask was actually Rick. 

T-Dog looked especially offended. “We thought you were being eaten by dogs, man!”

Glenn chanced a look at the dogs. Even though it was three vs one, Glenn was fairly sure he would demolish those chihuahuas.

There was a small clear a little ways into the woods. There, a geek was feasting on deer throat. The poor thing also had three arrows sticking out of its flank. The geek realized there was a crowd forming around it, but before it could target any of them, the men at camp took turns beating it with whatever weapon they had found: bats, crowbars, the butt of a shotgun… Finally, Dale hit it in the neck with an axe, and its head came off.

“It’s the first one we’ve had up here. They never come this far up the mountain.” Dale observed the corpse.

Behind them, some rustling among the trees announced another presence. Luckily, it was just Daryl, and he wasn’t too happy that his hunt had been stolen. He then noticed the severed walker head was still gnawing on air. “Come on people, don’t y’all know nuthin’?” He shot an arrow right through the geek’s eye without flinching. “It’s gotta be the brain.”

The first time Rick saw Daryl, he made the same conflicted face he’d made when he first saw Merle, and turned to Glenn for any clues on what to expect. This time though, Glenn was more preoccupied watching Polly happily skip around the severed and speared walker head in her way to the brawny man. 

“Daryl! Daryl! How many squirrels this time?” 

“Dunno, count ‘hem.” 

Daryl dropped his string of roadkill on the girl, and Glenn watched in resignation as she dragged their would-be dinner along the ground, dutifully trailing after the hunter.

I just hope this guy doesn’t try to kill us all once he hears about Merle.

Daryl strode up to camp confidently, like he always did, already calling for his brother. But, this time, no one came to meet him.

“Daryl.” Shane called. “Slow down a bit. I need to talk to you.”

“Abou’ wha’?”

“I think it’s about Merle not coming back from Atlanta.”

The moment Polly opened her mouth, everyone froze. Then, Daryl pointed at her while staring hard at Shane, and asked before his face was flooded with anger.

“What did she say?”

Glenn watched with growing anxiety as Daryl unsheathed his knife and threw himself at Rick. There went their hopes for a non-violent discussion.

Thankfully, the police academy trained its boys well and soon Shane had Daryl in a chokehold.

Polly clung to Glenn, which meant she wasn’t running over there to kick Shane in the shins, but she still looked like she wanted to protest. “Are they hurting him!?”

“Uh…” Unlike Merle getting his shit rocked, this was honestly a bit painful to watch.

Glenn really didn’t like the subbasement—the place was poorly lit and the air felt stale—but there was actually a drainage tunnel they might be able to escape through. Although they’d have to check it first. 

All heads turned to Glenn.

“You won’t be alone.” Andrea tried to be reassuring. “We’ll be right behind you—”

“No.” Glenn cut her off, more sharply than intended, and forced himself to explain. “If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine. But only if we do it my way. If I have to get out quick, I don't want you all jammed up behind me getting me killed.”

The others seemed to agree that it would be very unfortunate, and nodded for him to keep explaining the plan. Plan that Glenn had to make up as he spoke, since he didn’t have any experience in sewer-exploring.

“I’ll take only one person.” His eyes met Rick’s for a fraction of a second and Glenn knew he was about to offer. But that wouldn’t do. “I’ve seen you shoot. I’d feel better if you were in the store watching those doors” Then he looked at Andrea. “You’ve got the only other gun, so you should go with him.” He decided to take Morales and have Jacqui stand watch in case something happened. Rick patted his back in approval and everyone got ready.

Come on, Glenn. This is like the levels in Portal. Next test chamber is “Gnarly Hole”. Just solve the puzzle and find the exit. You’ve done it a thousand times.

The moment he stepped away from the ladder, he heard squeaking. On top of being tight, dark, and wet, the place also had rats. This is officially the worst run ever. Flashlight in hand, Morales and Glenn advanced until they came across a barred screen.

Glenn pointed his flashlight towards where he’d heard a wet, squelching sound and promptly recoiled in disgust. There was a geek knelt down gorging on a rat. It tried to grab them. Luckily, it was on the other side of the bar screen.

That was the end of the Gnarly Hole expedition, another dead end. The walkers had managed to push their way through, and now the group was down to one set of glass doors between them and a terrible death. Fortunately, Rick was full of ideas. Unfortunately, Glenn couldn’t say he liked them.

They went out into the alley and dragged one of the dead geeks inside.

They all stood in a circle around the rotten body, dressed in plain coats and those big cleaning gloves. They could have passed for a cringeworthy cult, or a group of stupid kids about to do a lab experiment that was—very clearly—going to go wrong.

Rick, clearly feeling guilty for the atrocity he was about to commit, searched the man’s pockets and took out his wallet.

He read the man’s name aloud, where he was from, the year he was born, counted the dollars in his wallet and showed them a picture he kept of a girl, Rachel.

“One more thing.” Glenn interrupted. “He is an organ donor.” Is and not Was because the guy may not have been so before turning, but he sure was gonna be now.

Next thing they knew, they were chopping up Dead Guy. Not only was it the goriest thing Glenn had seen in his entire life, the sound the bones and tendons made when they broke was absolutely chilling, and the smell of putrid meat being torn open hit him like a truck.

He needed to lean against something. “Oh, I’m so gonna hurl.”

Glenn managed to keep his composure until the others started covering him and Rick in someone’s guts. Worst part was, Glenn couldn’t remember volunteering to any of this, or being asked even.

“This is so bad.” He cried.

“Think about something else, like puppies and kittens.” Rick attempted to console him.

T-Dog followed up with “Dead puppies and kittens.” 

Glenn hurled. He just had to. And he was wishing very bad things on T-Dog now.

There was an abandoned tank by the intersection, right next to where the geeks enjoyed what looked like a horse. Some guy stuck his head out from inside the tank and shut the hatch close when geeks started climbing the vehicle.

He just got himself stuck. Glenn recognized. His mind went back to standing on top of a dumpster surrounded by walkers or being alone on that roof as it poured. 

It’s only a matter of time. But there’s nothing I can do for him.

His attention went back to the radio, and then, without being able to stop it, back to the tank.

There’s gotta be one in that tank. He fiddled with the dial, trying to remember the frequency it was set on when he’d found it. He most likely wouldn’t be able to connect, but it could hurt nobody to try.

“Hey, you, dumbass. Yeah, you in the tank. Cozy in there?” He got amused at his own joke, but his smile faded the longer he didn’t get an answer. “Are you alive in there?”

Glenn caught himself sighing in relief when he heard the desperate “Hello?”

“There you are. Had me wondering.”

“Where are you? Outside? Can you see me?”

“I can see you. You’re surrounded by walkers, that’s the bad news.”

“There’s good news?”

“Could be dinosaurs.” The answer came as much out of left turn for Glenn as it did for Tank Guy, who paused before sending a very confused “what?”

“If you were surrounded by dinos, you’d stand no chance. As bad as it sounds, they’re only stiff bodies without half a neuron. You’re a person in full capacity which means, if you do it right, you have a shot. Your shot is an alley up the street, I’ll meet you there.”

“That’s it? Thought I was surrounded.”

“Oh, and you are. It’s really bad on the horse’s side, but the other street’s less crowded.” Less crowded in comparison, it wasn’t clear by any means. “Got ammo?”

“In a duffel bag I dropped. And guns. Could I get to it?”

Glenn checked quickly. “Forget the bag, it’s not an option. What do you have on you?”

“Hang on.” 

The radio crackled and the voice was back. “I’ve got a Beretta with one clip. Fifteen rounds.”

“Make them count. There’s one on top of the tank. Jump to the right side and keep going that direction. The alley is only 50 yards away.”

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Have you been listening? You’re running outta time.”

Shortly after cutting the comm, Glenn saw the guy climb out of the tank’s hatch and strike a walker in the jaw with an entrenching shovel. Glenn had to get going too. He rushed to the fire escape and gulped —he didn’t remember the drop to be so far down. He steeled himself and got down as fast as humanly possible, in part because the metal was burning his hands. Once on the ground, he rushed to the alley entrance only to be met with a gun barrel on his face.

“Whoa! Not dead!” The man lowered his gun. “Come on!”

Glenn sprinted back towards the stairs. He had to make sure Tank Guy was following since he wouldn’t stop turning around to shoot. He wouldn’t stop the herd like that, and Glenn was already dizzy with adrenaline. He’d never had so many geeks after him.

“What are you doing!? Come on!” He could taste the desperation in his voice and, this time, he didn’t care for the scorching metal as he climbed up the ladder. Finally, they reached the half-way landing and stopped, panting. Out of danger for now, Glenn took a good look at Tank Guy. The first thing to get his attention was that he was dressed head to toe like a policeman.

“Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood. You the new sheriff? Come riding in to clean up the town?”

“It wasn’t my intention.”

“Whatever, yeehaw.” Maybe Glenn was being a little mean, but he had just stuck his neck out for this stranger, so he could take it. “You’re still a dumbass.”

If there was something kids liked more than toys, that was good stories.

“ —and then it tried to grab me, but I ducked out of the way. He got offended and called his friends, and I had to run in between their arms like this!” The kids gasped as Glenn demonstrated how he twisted himself out of the walkers’ reach. As he performed, he noticed the mothers on the other shore of the pond, looking unimpressed. “B–but, you should never try this yourselves! Stay always at least five feet away from the infected, and don’t go anywhere without supervision!”

The boys groaned. “You just made it boring!”

As the kids scampered away, Glenn heard a booming laugh behind him. Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself.

“And you call ‘at a story? If the dead haven’t got yer ass yet ‘s only ‘cause yellow meat tastes like shit. Anyone with a pair ‘a eyes ‘n legs can do whatcha do.” Merle commented as if it were the weather, lounging on the rocks with his bag of substances propped nearby. 

Glenn rolled his eyes. He was used to this by now. “You should go, then. Don’t let “yellow meat” touch your precious beer, even if that’s the only reason you have any.” He muttered under his breath. When he chanced a look at Merle, the man was already staring him down without an ounce of his typical messed up amusement.

Shit. 

Merle got up and walked up to Glenn, all gait and aggressive confidence. Glenn tried to stay firm, but stumbled back the moment Merle put a hand on his shoulder and pushed.

“Whatcha say, huh? Think I can’t go in there ‘n come back with a haul better than yers?”

They had a couple of spectators now.

“Listen here, city boy.” Merle lowered himself to Glenn’s level and slowed his voice down, as if talking to a kid. “Anything yer scrawny ass can do, I can do better.”

“What’s goin’ on here?”

Glenn got his personal space back as Merle straightened up and turned towards Shane.

“Hey, Cop Guy!” Merle grinned. “Kid says the city’s actually easy, ‘n tha’ we a bunch’a pussies who need their shit brought for them.”

Glenn gawped, then quickly stuttered. “Tha—that’s not—”

“If it’s so easy, how come we’ve only been getting one bag’a stuff and not more?” Merle continued. “Tell ya wha’! Next time I’ll go with ‘im, t’see if he’s been sleepin’ on t’job.”

Glenn’s stomach dropped. He and Merle alone in Atlanta? 

He’s planning to kill me, isn’t he?

“Actually,” Andrea appeared from behind the clothes rack. “I’ve been meaning to go into Atlanta myself to look for more specific stuff.”

“And Glenn’s been complaining it’s getting harder to find stores with good stuff.” Jacqui added. “I worked for the zoning department in the city. Maybe I can help?”

“If y’all going, then I’m going too.” T-Dog joined the circle that was starting to form around Glenn. “That way we can carry more things and won’t need to be sending people down there every two days.”

“It would be dangerous to have so many people in Atlanta at the same time.” Morales commented. “The more eyes watching your back, the better. Count me in.”

In the end, Shane conceded to the operation, warning them to not take any unnecessary risks since the group couldn't put any more people on the line if things went sideways. Glenn understood that as “If you fuck it up, no one’s coming.” 

Some part of him wanted to be bitter and question how come he hadn’t seen any of this enthusiasm for helping him in his runs before. The other part accepted that this was the best moment possible — if Merle tried anything funny now, Glenn would have witnesses. 

Glenn peeked through a knothole in the fence. He smelt the decomposing body before he saw it, even though he knew exactly where it was. He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath into the elbow of his clothes to calm his stomach.

He scanned the rest of the street. It appeared as if no other geeks had wandered into the area. Luck was on Glenn’s side this far.

Then, he got a bit of a running start and hauled himself over the fence. The jump put some strain on his abdomen, and he used the fact that he was alone to stop and breathe.

You just got here. There’s no rush yet.

He walked himself back to the apartment calmly —as much as one can be in such an environment— and silently. The streets were uncannily empty, making Glenn overthink every step. Not seeing any geeks, Glenn realized, was just as creepy as seeing a bunch of them. It might be worse. Because he knew there were geeks in the neighborhood, and they must be somewhere, he just didn’t know where. And it was making his skin crawl.

Somehow, he managed to reach the old metal door without using his distraction technique. Glenn pushed himself inside, not wanting to open the door fully, and scanned his surroundings. The hall was as dark and as empty as he remembered it, and his labored breathing started to ease out.

“That was…easy?”

He entered the apartment using the keys he still had in his pocket and filled his backpack with the food he left behind last time. Then, he took himself to the roof and scanned the area. Everything was eerily still and silent, like time itself had frozen. In a way, Glenn supposes, it did.

He’d had the opportunity to properly check his bruises in the bathroom. They had already taken the yellow, greenish coloring of the final stages of healing. But that improvement ended up being a poison apple. Getting his strength back made Glenn confident. And then greedy.

I did tell the girls I’d grab things for them. And T-Dog’s neck hurts. And we need more medicine.

Before he could think harder about it, he took his small map out and added the streets he believed he’d taken after leaving the refugee center. If he wasn’t wrong, the panel he’d thrown Polly’s little pink ball against had been a Walgreens. If he could find it again, he could get the things they needed.

With a destination already in mind, Glenn went back to the streets and got moving.

It didn’t take too long before a certain white van came into view, the one he’d tried unlocking the night of the bombing with no luck. Further down the street was the liquor store.  He could picture the Honda CB parked on the side-walk; screwdriver, rucksack, tent and radio still strewn around where Glenn had struggled against the Dixons. He couldn’t believe he was living with those guys now. 

He picked up the bag and checked its contents. Almost-full water bottle, clothes for two people, saved MREs, and a shake-to-charge flashlight. 

A pang of pity hit Glenn in the chest. That man had everything to take his kid away from this place and take care of her. If only he’d had better luck…

As he picked up the radio, Glenn got an idea. He bet it would surprise the group if he could connect with the CB at camp.  As he moved the dial, some frequency sounds came through, but no one answered when Glenn spoke.

Disappointed, he turned it off. The static sounds went away, but there was a hum in the air, one that Glenn had thought belonged to the radio.

His blood went cold the moment he lifted his gaze.

“Man, Dale,” T-Dog called as he cracked his neck for the thousandth time. “Your RV’s really nice. But if I gotta sleep on that floor one more night, I might set it on fire.”

As they argued, Jacqui discretely approached the girls.

“You don’t happen to have any ‘products’, right?”

Andrea sighed in shared concern. “We are really low. I don’t know what we’ll do once we run out.”

“Um,” both their heads snapped towards Glenn, realizing he’d been listening. He looked at his feet, embarrassed. “I can get you more products if you need them.”

Jacqui lifted an eyebrow at him. “You have feminine hygiene products?”

“No! But there should be in Atlanta.” 

A sudden stillness fell over the campfire, everyone staring at Glenn in silence.

Andrea was the first to huff. “Right. If only stores were still open.”

“We can just get in and take them.”

There was another silence, a more pointed one. Shane stood over him, arms in jar position, assessing him the same way he had when they’d first met.

“You saying, you see going into that dead city, grabbing the stuff, and coming back as a possibility?”

Glenn knew how crazy it sounded, but he didn’t like the way Shane said it. As if Glenn were crazy.

“I mean, I’ve done it before and I’m alive, so…”

Shane kept staring at him hard. Then, a grin slowly stretched itself across Shane’s face, giving him a bit of a condescending look.

“You’ve got it man.” He clapped Glenn on the shoulder a little too strongly. “Have everything ready for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!?” Glenn choked on air. “Wait, do I still have to take night watch?”

“Of course. We’ll be one man short, we need people rested.”

The next day, Glenn felt as if he had a taped-on sign on his back. 

Everyone turned to watch him everywhere he went, their pitying eyes inescapable. Some — Glenn would swear — almost told him not to go, but then they remembered they were out of food and bottled water and toilet paper, and they were telling him to be careful out there instead.

Dale and Jim prepared an SUV for him to drive down to the city and handed him some pliers.

“In case you need them.” Dale said as he patted his arm in support. “We’re all very proud of you.”

Glenn huffed. “Well, it kinda feels like you guys think I’ll be driving to my death.”

Dale grimaced. Yeah, that was what they thought.

The softest breeze caressed his cheek for a second, then it stopped. There was a long, tired sigh. Then the breeze was back with heaviness, sending short bursts of air towards his face.

Glenn felt dead. Yet, he wasn’t — otherwise he’d feel nothing. 

He tried to stir, but his stiff body wouldn’t allow much movement.

The soft breeze paused again. More suddenly this time, deliberate.

And then, a small, hopeful “Glenn?”

He let out a miserable groan and got a light shoulder shake in response.

“Wake up!”

“ ‘M try’n’ ”

“About time — you’ve been asleep for hours! My wrist was starting to hurt.”

Glenn peeled his eyes open and forced himself onto his elbows.

“Where am I?” Glenn’s voice was raspy, his throat dry and rough. 

“Dale’s RV.”

Who’s Dale?

He forgot to ask. The moment his eyes managed to focus, they sent an image to his brain that halted yet again his thought process. 

A youthful, kid-like face looked back at him and beamed. She was wearing a hat, a red hat. Glenn’s own hat. He’d already forgotten all about it, but now that he thought of it, he’d given that hat to Polly.

But it couldn’t be, right? Could he be having another hallucination? A dream perhaps? The stabbing pain in his abdomen felt too intense to be a dream. 

“Polly? How–” He grunted as he got himself upright. “How did you get here?”

“We got stuck in a jam trying to leave the city, then Merle noticed some cars going up the hill and told Daryl to follow them. And now we’re here.”

The names were somehow familiar, but the memories felt kinda fuzzy. Still, those two guys Glenn had briefly met and a forgotten hat wouldn’t randomly appear in a dream-like delusion, right? He wasn’t seeing things. 

He stared intensely at Polly, waiting for her to disappear.

She noticed his staring and smiled up at him.

“Thanks for coming back.”

Glenn felt like a fraud.

His intention had never been to “come back”. The idea that Polly was still within reach, that reunion was a possibility, hadn’t even crossed his mind. Maybe it should have.

“I’m glad I found you.”

The moment was interrupted by someone entering the RV. The older man paused when he saw them. Then, slowly, his surprised expression turned into relief.

“Well, it’s good to see you awake!”

“Thanks, um, for letting me rest here. Are you Dale?”

“That’s me, and this is my RV. You did look like you needed a nap.”

“Right. Thanks, again. Um, are we alone?”

So far, Glenn hated his only job.

He was panting like a dog. He’d stopped at the base of the hill to get one of the water bottles out of the bag and he’d already gone through it, yet he felt dehydrated. He stepped on something that snapped and he flinched. He’d been doing that a lot.

Every step was a battle. His legs were shaky and cramping. His head had been pounding for a while now and he could only think about the next step leading him to the quarry — and somehow, in his tired mind, that would fix all his problems —, or leading him to his death — if you think about it, that’d also end his problems.

“There’s always some problem with you.”

Glenn froze. That couldn’t have been the wind. He turned slowly to the tree to his right, as if he’d been the one to whisper the subliminal message to him. Then snorted at himself without any humor.

“As if.”

He dragged himself further up the road. The blazing sun and his terrible headache were making it hard to see properly.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

Glenn ignored it and staggered forwards. It was just the heat.

“I’ve got a plan.” He slurred unintelligibly at no one.

His head felt like a boiling pot while beads of cold sweat coated the rest of his body. The uneven temperature was sending chills down his nervous system, resulting in his muscles spasming involuntarily from time to time. He needed to get to that quarry now.

“And what will that solve?” His father asked, stern. “You’re no good on your own, but you’re so stubborn.”

“Shut up.” Glenn tried to say, but it became a garbled sound that stuck at the back of his throat. 

“You failed that little girl.”

Glenn had no answer for that. There were now color blotches in his vision and everything was slightly tilted. Then he realized he was tilted and on the ground. 

It was really hard to breathe and his mind was ready to switch off. 

“Glenn!”

He heard someone, high-pitched and scared, call his name. He tried to cling to that voice. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore, so instead of trying to see what was happening, he focused all his energy on his breathing. Even with his best efforts, he still drifted in and out of consciousness, catching only bits of distorted speech, as if his ears were under water. 

“ — dead?” “Polly, — from him. Dale.” “Is — bite?” “N–, — were my –” “ – know –?” “ — ‘bout ‘im is — bike-stealer.” 

As the voices argued, hands grabbed at Glenn and poked his ribs. He wanted to push away from them, but his body wasn’t responding.

“Stop, – upset—”

Yes. Please. Stop.

“There – no bites, he’s — pulse, –” “Please, —” “ – kid – like — out of Hell, – can’t leave — doorstep — this far.” “Fine.”

He was trying to get a better view of the Ford Focus. The front was completely smashed in a light post. The windshield was cracked and splattered in blood. Glenn felt bad but, if this person was heavily injured, he wouldn’t be able to save them. He swallowed his guilt and mentally apologized one last time before moving on. But that’s when he saw it. A “baby on board” sticker.

Glenn’s heart plummeted. 

It didn’t mean there was a baby in the car now, right?

But what if.

He peered through a side window and found no baby — unless you counted a ten-year-old as one. He carefully opened the door and the girl, who’d been rocking herself in place, froze. She didn’t even look up.

“Hey…” Glenn tried, voice as soothing as he could muster. “I’m not one of them. Let’s get you out of here, okay?” Glenn unbuckled her seatbelt and helped her out of the car. Their eyes met for the first time; hers were full of fear and tears. 

“I want my dad,” she sobbed. The man was completely limp and unresponsive. There were shards of the windshield sticking out of his chest and — yeah, no, he was dead.

The geeks wouldn't take much longer to move on and find them, and Glenn didn't know how to explain the situation without further traumatizing the child. He lifted her from her armpits, pulled her to his chest, and took off, feeling her muffled cries on his shoulder as he ran.

He was about to cut through an alley when a lurker cut them off from the other side. 

Glenn dived down and hid behind one of those big dumpsters with small wheels.

“Did they see us?” The girl asked, voice wet and shaky.

“Don’t think so.” Glenn checked the other side to make sure they weren’t getting surrounded, then returned his attention to the girl. She was trembling, nose runny and eyes red. Glenn felt awful for her.

“I’m Glenn,” he said, voice as calm and gentle as possible. “What’s your name?”

The girl sniffled and croaked: “Polly.”

“You’re being very brave, Polly. We’ll get out of this together, we’ll look out for each other.” She nodded minutely, staring unseeingly at the asphalt.

Glenn couldn’t work on cheering her up while making sure they weren’t found out and thinking of the route they should take, but he also didn’t want for her to stew in her misery. So he decided to give her something to distract her.

“Hey, Polly, do you like hats?” She shrugged as he took his baseball cap off and offered it to her. “I think this one would look good on you.”

“I had a friend with a similar hat.” Polly commented and Glenn made a noise of interest to keep her going. He didn’t think they could be heard. He’d been keeping his voice very low and Polly was so scared of making any noise that Glenn had to strain his ears to hear her at all.

“He was the guy who brings pizza home? I never spoke to him but he always stopped to say hi.” 

Suddenly, vivid memories flooded Glenn’s mind. An address he’d been delivering to for little more than a year. The couch was in clear view from the doorway, a little girl hid behind it, watching him. Glenn gave a tentative smile and a wave of his hand. The kid returned the wave. By the third time Glenn delivered to that house, it had become their ritual.

“Extra cheese with pepperoni every Friday?”

“How did you—”

"Dysfunctional Family" -> Shane insists that, even if they haven't known each other for long, they're all like a family now - working like a single unit, doing their best to protect one another. Glenn soon finds out it's not quite like that.

"The Ones Who Come Back" -> Yes, another reference to twd meta. Chapter full of "come backs". Rick comes back, they go back for Merle, then for Glenn, and then they come back to camp...a little too late.

"The Clock Is Ticking" -> You know there's a literal clock in S1 last episode, but there are also quite a few metaphorical ones.

Tbh, I kinda agree with the damn machine that Daryl is the best option, but I wanted to hear your opinion.