Glenn walked quickly through the prison yard, the cold night air biting against his face, though it did little to clear the disbelief lingering in his mind. Shane Walsh. Alive. Standing outside the prison gates. Even now, it sounded ridiculous. A few minutes ago he'd been half asleep; now he wasn't sure if he'd be sleeping again tonight at all.
The torch in his hand cast long shadows across the ground as he crossed the compound, the gate already swallowed into darkness behind him. Daryl wasn't captured and came back home safely instead — that should have been the biggest news of the night. Instead it barely registered anymore, because he hadn't come back alone. He'd brought two problems with him.
Glenn ran a hand through his hair. "What the hell..." The words slipped out before he realized it. Merle was one thing — the older Dixon was a pain in the ass, but at least he made sense, and Daryl coming back with his brother wasn't impossible since he'd been working with him as a mole in Woodbury for a while now. Shane was different. Shane was supposed to be dead. Shane Walsh was supposed to be nothing more than a memory, an ugly one, a chapter of their lives everyone had long since moved on from. Then Daryl had casually driven through the gates with him sitting in the backseat, and Glenn still wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to that.
He climbed the stairs leading into Cell Block C. The upper walkways were quiet, most of the residents already asleep, only a few lanterns still lit and casting a faint orange glow across the surroundings. His footsteps echoed softly against the metal floor. Normally he would've waited until morning. Not tonight.
He continued down the walkway before eventually stopping outside a familiar cell. A thick curtain hung across the bars — not much privacy, but better than nothing. Glenn stared at it a second, part of him almost feeling bad. Almost. Then he raised a hand and knocked against the bars, the metallic sound echoing through the quiet cell block.
For several seconds nothing happened. Then he heard movement, and a moment later Andrea's voice drifted through the fabric. "Glenn?"
He exhaled. "Yeah. Sorry to be a bother, but something troubling came up."
The curtain shifted and Andrea pulled it aside just enough to look out, her annoyance fading the moment she saw his expression. "What the hell happened? It's late."
Before Glenn could answer, another voice came from deeper inside the cell. "Did Daryl come back?"
Michael. Glenn blinked. "How'd you know?"
"If it wasn't important, no one would've bothered waking you up. Daryl was supposed to meet Merle today, so I'm guessing he's with him?" A moment later Michael stepped into view, looking more tired than annoyed — not surprising, given the trip to Atlanta and everything that followed. He studied Glenn a moment. "You okay?"
Glenn nodded. "Merle's not the problem." That got Michael's attention immediately. "It's the other person he brought with him."
The tiredness in Michael's eyes faded slightly. Andrea frowned. "What other person?"
Glenn hesitated, trying to work out how to even say it. A few minutes ago he would've thought someone was messing with him if they'd told him the same thing. Finally: "Shane."
Silence. Then Andrea blinked. "That's — f*ck. Really?"
"Yeah. He's here."
A frown crossed her face. "But Merle told us they hunted Shane down after the two failed prison attacks."
"That was my first thought too." Glenn shrugged helplessly. "Then I realized he never actually said Shane died."
Andrea was quiet for a moment. "I guess he managed to escape then."
"Looks that way."
She glanced toward Michael, then back at Glenn. "You're really sure it was him?"
"I talked to him, Andrea." That alone was enough to kill most of her doubt, though it didn't stop her from shaking her head. "That's — I don't even know what to call that. Why now of all times?"
"Yeah." Glenn rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been trying to figure that out myself."
Michael leaned against the bars, listening to the two of them, thinking, turning over the reasons behind Shane's appearance tonight. Then a thought occurred to him, and he glanced deeper into the cell block, toward a particular cell. A headache was already forming. Of all the nights, of all the possible problems, Shane just had to show up tonight.
'Fcking bastard should have just died quietly, or gone far away from here.'
Either one would've made more sense than showing up at their gates in the middle of the night.
Finally he spoke. "Does Rick know?"
Glenn shook his head. "No."
"Lori?"
"No, I came straight here."
Michael nodded once. Good — at least the situation was still contained. After a moment he looked back at Glenn. "Where are they now?"
"Still at the gate."
"All three?"
"Yeah. The guards are keeping an eye on those two."
Michael's expression tightened. "Armed?"
Glenn hesitated before answering. "Yeah."
That earned a frown. "They didn't disarm him?"
"They wanted to."
Michael waited.
"Daryl vouched for him."
For the first time since Glenn arrived, Michael looked genuinely dissatisfied. Not angry, just unhappy with the situation. The guards had done the right thing stopping them; they should've taken the weapons too, especially from Shane. His jaw tightened slightly. The man had disappeared from the farm without a word, and the next time they saw him he was standing with Woodbury — not once, but twice, each time carrying a weapon and standing on the wrong side of the battlefield. And now he was standing outside their gates. Only this time, not an enemy, but certainly a nuisance. Michael wasn't sure which part bothered him more.
"Shane really knows how to pick the worst possible time to cause trouble."
"I think so too." Truthfully, Glenn already had a pretty good idea why Shane had come. Andrea remained silent, and judging by her expression, she'd reached the same conclusion. Nobody said Lori's name. Nobody needed to. The reason was obvious.
The silence lingered inside the small cell, Andrea looking away, Glenn rubbing the back of his neck, neither eager to be the one who said it out loud. Eventually Michael pushed himself away from the bed and got up. "We're going."
Andrea looked at him. "Do you want me there too?"
"Yeah. We all have history with him. Let's go hear what he has to say." That was explanation enough — the longer they stayed here, the higher the chances someone would wake up and hear them.
Andrea sighed. "I was planning on sleeping soundly tonight."
"You still can."
"As if I still can after hearing this." She raised an eyebrow, and Michael smirked while Glenn just shook his head. The three of them left the cell together and made their way out of the building.
The prison remained quiet, most of the residents asleep, only a handful of lanterns still lit throughout the corridors. None of them knew what was waiting at the gate. Michael envied everyone still sleeping peacefully tonight — but Shane Walsh, of all people, had to show up and make the night worse.
The metal stairs groaned softly beneath their feet as they descended to the lower level. For several moments nobody spoke. Then Andrea broke the silence. "You think he's really here because of Lori?"
Michael didn't answer right away. The question had been hanging over all of them since Glenn arrived. Finally: "Do you have another explanation if not that?"
Andrea didn't. Neither did Glenn. The silence returned.
Michael stared ahead as they crossed the prison yard, the cold wind brushing his face, and closed his eyes briefly. He had spent months changing the future — preventing deaths, changing decisions, creating outcomes that should never have happened. Yet some things refused to stay buried. Shane Walsh seemed determined to prove that. Lori. Carl. The life he believed Rick had stolen from him. Michael wasn't interested in finding out what excuse Shane had prepared this time.
The gate slowly came into view ahead, several guards still stationed nearby, weapons ready, eyes alert. The moment they noticed Michael approaching, a few visibly relaxed — not much, just enough — before their attention shifted back toward the three men near the vehicle. Daryl leaned against the driver's side door while Merle sat on the hood smoking, neither of them particularly concerned. The third man stood a short distance away, hands in his pockets, silent, waiting.
Michael recognized him immediately. It hadn't been that long. Yet some faces were difficult to forget.
Shane noticed them approaching, or maybe he'd been watching the entire time. His gaze moved past Glenn, past Andrea, then settled on Michael. For several seconds neither man spoke. Neither looked away. The cold wind drifted through the prison yard, the guards around them still tense, nobody eager to break the silence — because despite everything that had happened over the last few months, this wasn't a reunion. It was a problem finally catching up to them.