Thirty-three counts of Grand Theft Auto. Thirty-three across six months. The kid was a legitimate criminal. Not necessarily a bad guy, but far more legit than Daryl was. It would be funny if it wasn't sad. Of all the people he'd met in the month he'd been in the hole, Daryl had honestly thought Glenn was someone more akin to himself. Someone who took the fall for a friend or family member and just got shafted for the effort.

"So what are you in for?" Glenn asked him, moving the game along now that four of their number (including Glenn) had shared.

Daryl lifted a shoulder in a shrug, "Possession and intent to deal." It wasn't the worst crime out there, but it wasn't great neither. It was better than Merle being caught with yet another pound of that blue meth he got from who knows where and spending another year behind bars. Better than spending another year in the shadow of their father with nothing better to do and no other prospects. Everyone had known he was lying to cover for his brother, but he'd pled guilty, and there hadn't been anyone out there who cared enough to refute it and prove otherwise. Not his court-appointed lawyer. Not anyone in the jury. Not his own daddy. Not when it was easier to believe Daryl had finally gone and joined the grand Dixon tradition of being a royal societal fuck-up.

Merle would have. He liked to think Merle would have. But Merle was off with his old gang and Daryl hadn't bothered to call and tell him what was up. He'd find out eventually. Might even find out the next time Merle got himself taken away for a short sentence. Wouldn't that be a surprise? Walking in to the big house he called his own every so often to find his brother already there, feet kicked up on the proverbial mantle, drinking his proverbial beer.

The others at the table nodded and most of them started to look toward the next person, accepting it as true. But Glenn didn't let them. The game had three parts. Three questions. Daryl had only answered one.

He leaned in, putting his chin in the palm of one hand, "Did you do it?"

Daryl smirked and looked down, shaking his head, "Nah. Wasn't mine."

"But you pled no contest," Axel, a flighty man with red hair and a mustache that was far too well-maintained for his own good, exclaimed with surprise that he didn't bother to hide. He'd been in for a while. Long enough to have met Merle during his last stint and remember exactly what kind of man Merle Dixon was. He'd been the one to introduce Daryl to the rest of the group he was keeping to.

Daryl shrugged again and looked over at Glenn, who was still leaning in and watching him intently. The kid grinned, taking it as his cue to ask the final question of the game, "Why?"

"Didn't feel like letting my brother go in again," he answered honestly, quietly. There were a few murmurs of understanding from the rest. Axel wasn't the only one who remembered Merle. He'd just been the most ready to jump on the idea of putting himself with a Dixon in an attempt to protect himself. Even if Daryl wasn't as blustering as Merle had been, he was still the man's brother. That held a lot of weight.

Having done his part for the game, Daryl asked the next in line what he'd done. If he'd really done it. Why. The three questions Grimes, the ex-cop in for the murder of his partner, had picked for the game. Daryl didn't really pay attention to Bob's answers. He was just going through the motions as his eyes lingered instead on the Korean kid who was far too fresh-faced and friendly for the five years he'd been sentenced to.

...

"You believe him?" Glenn asked idly as they shared the relative comfort of the shade along the low stone wall that edged the yard. Somehow Daryl and Glenn had ended up acting almost like a second-in-commands to the small gang Grimes had gathered over the course of the first three weeks the man had been in. And with that dubious status came them hanging out near Grimes when they could. Visual distance at the very least. The man himself was on the other side, at the fence, joking around with one of the guards who'd taken a shine to him within days of being there.

"I believe him," Glenn continued without waiting for an answer. Daryl wasn't surprised. Grimes had a way about him. Charisma. Honor.

"Don't really matter," Daryl said, scooting his butt closer to Glenn and slinging an arm over his shoulder. He let his fingers run through the kid's hair and Glenn leaned into it.

Glenn's pretty face had gotten him in trouble almost as much as his smart mouth. Before Grimes had made the whole gang a more formalized thing that the other gangs in the prison were forced to recognize, Daryl had stepped in to stop a beating or three. The kid hadn't even been apologetic about it, neither. It wasn't like he'd forced Daryl to come to his rescue. But he had, and that had led to more than a few rumors that Glenn was Daryl's bitch.

At first it was just that Daryl didn't like to see someone so genuinely friendly and nice get dragged down. He'd already witnessed his brother go that route. He was probably the only one left in their small town who could remember a time before Merle was a juvie regular. Granted, Glenn was a lot older than Merle had been the first time he'd gone into any kind of lock up, but that sort of thing still changed a person. And Daryl had just hated the idea of that smile being broken apart and twisted into something ugly.

Then Axel started nosing around him, tried to be all up in his business more and more. Be his 'friend'. As the rumors about him and Glenn spread, Axel got more pointed in his faux-interest. He didn't really want to bend over for anyone, but he wanted the protection of a Dixon and Daryl had so far been living up the whole tough sonnabitch precedent his brother had set. It forced Daryl's hand in a way he wasn't comfortable with. The whole who-owns-who's ass attitude never sat well with him.

Around that same time, Grimes had started to come to Daryl for advice on handling a couple people he didn't like. He'd also been looking to Glenn. The first time Daryl slung his arm around the kid was during a meet up in the yard. Barely a week past. The three were being watched pretty closely as their 'family' stood off a few feet, waiting for them to come to some decision about how to handle a fucker named Tomas who was trying to act like he was the goddamned king of Cell Block C.

It was one of those rare occasions the prison let three whole cell blocks out at the same time to mingle while the prisoner's cells were checked over for contraband. Easier to do during the middle of the day. Daryl couldn't think of a more perfect time to subtly confirm that Glenn was his and no one was to touch him. Get a message across without having to humiliate anyone or say anything out loud that he'd regret or Glenn could refute. So he'd just lifted his arm and casually rested it on the kid's shoulder. Like it was as normal as breathing.

He hadn't expected Glenn to lean in and wrap his own arm around Daryl's waist in response. He hadn't expected Glenn to turn and grin at him for a second before giving his attention back to Grimes. He certainly hadn't expected the hand on his hip to slip down and grope his ass as the small meeting between the three of them broke off. The action gave a very different impression to those watching than Daryl had intended, though he couldn't say he was disappointed in the results. Grimes didn't say anything. Didn't act like he cared. Nor did the rest of their gang. Axel didn't give him any more unwanted hints and advances, neither.

From there it had just been a matter of timing and relative privacy. Glenn had gone in for the first kiss, clearly thinking Daryl was interested. And as it was, Daryl hadn't pulled away. They liked each other as friends. Daryl protected him and, in his own way, Glenn protected Daryl. Added to a reputation he didn't quite deserve. It worked out well enough. He wasn't opposed to the idea of making it something else.

Daryl wouldn't go so far as to say it was more than friendship. That implied that friendship was somehow lesser when it didn't involve any kind of fucking. And since they hadn't actually started fucking, that kind of definition didn't sit well. Since they didn't share a cell, they'd had to keep it whatever it was they were doing, the physical exploration of it all, limited. The slowness was okay with Daryl. Put him more at ease. Hell, for all he knew Glenn was just using him and Daryl was the one over-thinking it.

"I think it matters," Glenn said after a bit, pulling Daryl out of his thoughts. "I don't think Rick has it in him to kill without just cause."

Daryl let out a 'mmm' and Glenn turned his head to look at him, "You think I'm wrong?"

"Nah," Daryl mused with a sad smile. He turned his head to look the kid in the eyes. "I trust him. He'll do right by us for as long as we're in here."

After all, Rick was the reason Daryl felt safe enough to pull Glenn toward him for a lazy kiss. Tomas' unfortunate, untimely, and mysterious death following his attempt on Rick's life had seen to that. If Rick said it was self-defense, then it was self-defense. And no one in the prison was going to mess with him and his after that. They were firmly top dogs. He and Glenn didn't need to prove anything they didn't want to. Didn't have to hide the affection, neither. At least not about each other.

Glenn slid his hand up Daryl's chest to push him back and look him in the eyes, "Yeah. He will. He decide on the tattoo yet?"

"It'll be on the neck," he leaned in and pressed his lips on a spot, "Right here. Ain't decided on the design, though. Wants to hold a meet next time we can get together with the family in D. Was talkin' about letting us choose our own."

"Zombies," Glenn said and it was so random that Daryl couldn't help the laugh. Glenn nudged him, "Ah come on. It'd be great. If we're all picking, then it's better to stick to a theme. No one else would do zombies. Like, we can do faces and have something else added to them."

Daryl kept laughing, but got himself a little cozier as Glenn went on at length about his sudden and amazing grand idea. He didn't really think Glenn was using him, but if he was, Daryl didn't really care. The Kid made life in prison better, brighter. It was more than he'd expected when he was sentenced. And he was far better company than Axel, that was for damn sure.