Title: Take What You Can Get (1/1)

Author: Stormy1x2

Word Count: 1074

Summary: Just a a one-shot fic I wrote during Season 1 and never got around to posting. Missing scene for between Rick and Darryl discovering the van was gone and getting their ragtag group back to camp on foot. Mild hints of a beginning Darryl/Glenn, but easily ignored if that's not your deal.

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Glenn would be the first one to admit he wasn't much for hiking. Before the end of the world, his idea of 'getting back to nature' was setting up the 3-D fish screensaver on his laptop and surfing the wi-fi while perched on the fire escape railing outside his shitty apartment. Hiking was something he'd read about - maybe seen a documentary or something on the Discovery channel.

I am not going to ask for help, he told himself sternly, ignoring the fact that he was gasping and panting worse than the asthmatic Mr Gilbert they'd left back with the vatos. I am not going to be the first person to ask for a break.

They didn't have time for one anyway. If Merle really had stolen their van like Rick seemed dead certain on, then it was a rush against time to get back to camp. Glenn didn't really want to think about what kind of revenge a half-crazed hillbilly who'd just sawed off and cauterized his own arm could come up with.

His eyes flicked to the one man who probably had the clearest idea of what was going through the man's mind. Darryl was forging ahead of them all, quick but near-silent strides over the carpet of nettles and dry brush dotting their path. Rick was two steps behind, breathing hard but moving easily. The only one struggling more than Glenn himself was T-Dog. The hefty man was swearing under his breath as he stubbornly kept pace with the group.

Suddenly Darryl held his hand out, coming to a halt. Rick almost walked into his arm but followed the young hunters lead. "Darryl?"

Glenn watched, frozen in place and suddenly able to hold his breath easily, ears straining to hear. Around them, the woods was silent, save for T-Dog's huffing and puffing. Darryl was tense, head cocked as he swiveled his crossbow around.

Suddenly a cricket chirped, and a bird swooped down, snatching it, or something else like it from the grass to the right of them. Darryl seemed to relax slightly, and he motioned for them to keep moving. Glenn wanted to groan, but decided he'd be better off saving what little breath he had.

Darryl shot him a quick look. Then he glanced a T-Dog, a faint half-sneer on his face, looked back at Glen - okay, that was a bit unnerving - before shooting a look at Rick. "Two minutes," he said roughly.

Rick looked like he wanted to argue. "We don't have time-" he started but Darryl cut him off.

"You wanna go ahead on your own, don't let me stop you," he growled. "But you're gonna end up leaving them two-" he pointed at Glenn and T-Dog. "- way behind and prime chow for a hungry Walker. They don't have a damn clue about tracking or being tracked. Then that's two less people to help the ones in camp."

T-Dog glared half-heartedly, but Glenn swallowed hard, feeling somewhat guilty for not being a hundred and eighty-odd pounds of muscle like the two lead dogs of their rather unorthodox pack. Rick stared at Darryl for a moment, obviously weighing something in his mind, and then nodded shortly. "Two minutes."

Darryl dipped his head sarcastically as a response, and then strode off into the bush.

"Where's he going?" T-Dog asked wearily, slumping against a skinny lone pine bracing himself with one arm. "Bathroom break?"

"Perimeter check," Rick said quietly, scanning the other side of their chosen rest area. "Don't worry. Get your breath back - deep, easy breaths. We still got a ways to go."

Glenn swallowed again, throat still dry even after drinking a few sips of the tepid water left in his canteen. "It's getting late."

"Sun's gonna be setting in about an hour," Rick said, giving him a nod in agreement. "If we keep this pace we should make it back in about two, maybe two and half hours."

"Two," Darryl said, materializing out of the woods with that uncanny grace that was just so weird to see on such a gruff man. "I don't like this."

Rick nodded. "One minute," he reminded them all, and stepped off the beaten path himself.

Glenn's breath was mostly under control again, and he found himself edging closer to Darryl as he scanned the road behind them. It was creepy, not knowing what was around them or what they were facing but somehow, the hunter's bland, bored look as he double-checked his crossbow was comforting. "Darryl?"

The hunter shot him a vaguely irritated look. "What?"

Glenn shrugged and tried to look casual. "I just wanted to say... thanks for trying to save me back in the alley."

Darryl blinked at him in irate confusion. "The hell you talkin' about?"

"In the alley," Glen repeated. "When those two guys grabbed me. You shot Felipe with your crossbow and tried to stop them from taking me."

"Yeah, well..." Darryl shrugged his shoulders and went back to scanning the woods. "I don't like fuckin' spics like that gettin' the best of me."

Glenn winced. "Come on, really?"

"What?"

"Spics, man. Chinaman. Chink." Glenn gave a glare of his own back to the hunter. "Can we cut the racist shit out and talk man to man?"

"Find me a man and I'll talk to him." Darryl eyed him, amusement mixing with irritation on his face. "What are you, seventeen?"

"I'm twenty-five," Glenn huffed.

"Sure you are," Darryl nodded. "You done bustin' my hump? Glenn?" He empahsized the Korean's name mockingly, but Glenn smiled with satisfaction at having gotten it from him at all.

"Yep," he chirped. "Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. That's all."

Rick suddenly appeared on the path again, about fifteen feet ahead of them. "Let's go."

"Aw man," T-Dog whined, but obligingly pushed off the tree and started moving.

Darryl muttered something at Glenn as he moved forward, and Glen hurried his step to keep pace with him. "What was that?"

"I said, 'don't mention it," he snarled. "You deaf or what?" He pushed past Glen roughly, but Glenn smirked. The push had knocked Glenn over a bit - enough to miss the rock that was jutting up in the path and would have tripped him for not paying attention.

Darryl stomped ahead and took point again, and Glenn settled back in his third place position, feeling vaguely like he'd won something.

He just wasn't sure what.

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End

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