A/N: I felt that the world needs a little more Walking Dead mpreg especially when Daryl is involved. The whole world has gone to shit so why not everything else, even biology? Just to clear a few things up: this start at the CDC but covers a whole lot of time (about five episodes) in a slightly altered timeline. 1) Glenn has no interest in Maggie and does not have sex with her on the run to the pharmacy. 2) Since Glenn has no interest in Maggie, he doesn't go into the barn so none of that has happened. 3) He is gay and like Daryl which is a major change. REMEMBER: READ, REVIEW, REPEAT!

Glenn and Daryl's secret relationship began during their time at the CDC. Then Glenn started to get sick. The mysterious disease persisted and drove Glenn away from others that didn't want a potentially contagious man in their group. Daryl tries to defend Glenn the best he can and keep those others, especially Shane at bay. It is only when they come upon a very unusual group of survivors that they learn the origin behind Glenn's strange illness. Mpreg DarylxGlenn

Chapter 1

The first time that Daryl and Glenn had sex was when they were staying at the CDC. It was a spur of the moment decision for both of them, if Glenn had to describe it. After everyone had finished their feast and gone to bed, Daryl had come stumbling into Glenn's room and leaned against the doorframe to steady himself. Glenn had stood up from his seat on the bed, staring at the larger man, studying him. Although he was more than drunk at the time, Glenn could still remember thinking that Daryl looked good whether he was cleaned up or not.

The moment that Daryl swung the door closed, they were on each other like Walkers responding to a gunshot. They clawed at each other's clothes, tearing them off as quickly as they could. Glenn barely even had time to examine his partner's lower parts before Daryl had him on the bed on his hands and knees. He whined and moaned as the larger man clumsily tried to prepare him, his fingers slick with saliva. Daryl had growled behind him before he began to attack Glenn's opening with his tongue, driving the younger man crazy. By the time he was ready, Glenn felt boneless, his entire body shaking from the force of the tremors that had wracked their way through his thin frame.

Then Daryl entered and everything exploded into a sort of blinding pleasure that made him drop to his forearms and hike his hips up as high as he could get them. They pounded against each other, nearly rocking the steel bed that was nailed to the floor. Daryl struck his prostate with every stroke, finally pushing Glenn over the edge. They collapsed on top of each other, panting heavily and still attached when they fell asleep.

The following morning, they repeated.

When he awoke again, Glenn found Daryl staring at him. He smiled tentatively and sat up, wincing slightly from the pain in his back.

"Morning," he said quietly, picking at the sheets that gathered around his hips.

Daryl grunted in response, flopping down on his back. Glenn glanced down at him, noticing the slightly worried look on the man's face.

"I won't tell anyone," the smaller man said.

"You'd better not," Daryl snapped.

Glenn didn't flinch, already used to Daryl's typical attitude towards him.

"Even if you… want to continue with this," Glenn finished, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Daryl looked up at him, his face expressionless. Sitting up, he wrapped an arm around Glenn's shoulders, rubbing his far collarbone gently with his hand.

"Do you want to?"

Glenn nodded vigorously.

"Alright then. As long as we don't tell anyone."

Glenn agreed whole-heartedly with that. He had known he was gay for years, ever since high school, but he'd never told anyone about it, not even his parents. There were occasional boyfriends here and there, never lasting very long, but he wasn't about to tell anyone his little secret just because the world had essentially come to an end. If racism still persisted, why wouldn't hatred based on sexuality? Rick and Dale seemed like they would be fine with it, Lori and Carol too, but the others he wasn't so sure about.

Then Dr. Jenner tried to blow them all sky high and the two men had to put aside their lust for one another for a while. Everyone was in close quarters, sleeping in the cars or Dale's RV. Walkers were crawling all over the highway and then Sofia went missing. Carl was shot. Everything just got worse and worse until they found Hershel's farm. Daryl and Glenn barely talked beyond the occasional shouted commands or nervous questions. They didn't have a chance alone until Carl finally awoke on the bed in Hershel's house.

That night was their third and it was as mind blowing as the first two. The only differences were that it was in the middle of the woods and Glenn had scratches all over his hands from tree bark by the time they were finished.

Again, they decided to not tell anyone.

The following day Glenn and Maggie went to the Pharmacy down the road. Surprisingly, Glenn managed to make it out of the store without Maggie noticing the box of condoms that hid the pregnancy test for Lori. He's felt elated, proud of himself for managing to help Lori keep her secret even though he found it extremely hard to do so. She trusted him, something that didn't often happen even before the dead started walking.

When Rick and Shane brought Daryl into the house injured, Glenn felt his heart drop into his stomach and his good mood had instantly vanished. After he'd learned that the other man was okay, just really beat up, Glenn breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn't ready to lose Daryl, but he avoided the room where Daryl was laid up like the plague, not even going close to it as they ate dinner in the farmhouse.

He knew that he was becoming attached to the rough man, more than he probably should. His chest ached whenever he thought about what had happened to Daryl, how Andrea had almost killed him. He was about ready to drop to his knees and thank whatever deity was out there that she missed.

Despite his attraction and growing love for the other man, Glenn knew to keep his distance a bit. Daryl may have slept with him three times, but that didn't make him gay. Men had done crazier things before under less stressful and otherworldly conditions.

When Glenn was helping Carol wash the dishes, Maggie came into the kitchen and tapped him on the shoulder. Glancing back at her, Glenn smiled, a questioning look in his eyes.

"Daryl is asking for you. Said he had something to talk to you about," she said, taking the wet glass from his hand.

Glenn's smile dropped from his face and he nodded, quickly leaving the room. He trudged towards the bedroom that Daryl had been placed in, hesitating at the door. Gathering his courage, he quietly opened the door and slipped inside.

Daryl was on his side, his back facing Glenn with a bandage wrapped around his side and another around his head. As the door closed, he looked over his shoulder at the smaller man, motioning for him to come closer. Glenn took a deep breath to steady himself and walked around the bed so he and Daryl were facing each other. He sat in the chair that had been pulled up the bedside, his hands twitching nervously in his lap.

"L-Lori said you, uh, wanted to see me?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did," he said slowly. "What do you think of that?"

"Well, uh, you are the, uh, one injured so you can, uh, do or ask for whatever you want, right? No one can really tell you off for anything, uh, as long as its not going to hurt you further I mean you really got hurt trying to help us so it's a just reward, yeah? Besides, Andrea did shoot you so, uh, you deserve some special treatment from the group-"

Daryl fixed him with a stare that instantly silenced him. The blue eyes (1) were focused completely on him, making him twitch and shuffle in his seat. Glenn blushed when he realized he was rambling.

"I wanted a little company. Is that so bad?" Daryl asked sarcastically.

"Well, uh, you usually don't want, uh company," Glenn replied.

Daryl smirked and nodded. "No, I usually don't, but when you're laid up in bed because a horse practically threw you down a gully its nice to have it once in a while. Not much else to do anyway."

Glenn smiled a little at the annoyed look on Daryl's face. "You aren't one to sit still, are you?"

"Never. I fucking hate this bed. I fucking hate this house. I fucking hate these stitches in my side and fucking bandage wrapped around my head. Most of all, I hate every fucking second that I have to spend laying here waiting for my body to heal," Daryl snarled.

"Cool it, Legolas. Getting angry now isn't going to help you," Glenn chuckled.

"No, but I am still fucking angry about it."

Snarling at the bed underneath him, Daryl shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable. Glenn smiled a little and stood up, reaching over Daryl to help him. He placed a hand carefully on Daryl's back, pulling on it to help him shift over closer to the edge of the bed. When Daryl was comfortable, the bigger man shooed him back to his chair, snorting at the content look on Glenn's face.

"Don't get attached. This world has gone to shit. Anything can happen," Daryl growled.

"I'll try, but I'm a sentimental person. We're not all like you," Glenn said, teasing him a little.

"Better learn faster, kid."

"I'm not a kid and you know it."

Daryl smirked and rolled his eyes at Glenn. "You're still a little motherfucking brat when you want to be."

"I would never fuck a woman. You know that too," Glenn murmured lowering his voice so much that Daryl barely heard him.

"Yeah, you would rather be fucked."

Glenn blushed heavily and tried to hide his face when a large hand caressed the top of his head. He glanced up at Daryl who was petting his dark hair and staring at him.

"No need to get depressed, kid. I'll be up and running soon. I can hunt and fuck as much as you want," he said.

"I'm not depressed," Glenn snapped, brushing Daryl's arm away.

"Fine, fine," the bigger man said, giving Glenn a knowing look. "Whatever you say."

They were silent for a while, awkward. Glenn didn't know what to do as he sat beside Daryl's bed. He looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. His mind was racing, but it was hardly full of wild thoughts. It was completely blank, rushing to find anything to say or think of.

Finally, Daryl sighed loudly, bringing Glenn's attention back to the bigger man.

"How did your run to the Pharmacy go?" Daryl asked.

"Fine. I found a few things that could help us, some medicines and things," Glenn replied.

"That's good. Better to be prepared, especially if that old man ever grows a fucking pair of balls and kicks us off his land," Daryl muttered.

"Hershel wouldn't do that," Glenn argued.

"He would and he plans to. I bet that when Carl is finally okay, he'll want us gone for good."

"He seems like a nice man to me."

"He's a creepy old fucker."

Not wanting to argue, Glenn sat back in his chair and threw up his hands. Daryl smirked and settled back down against the bed, satisfied with the result of their discussion.

"I'll be back on my feet soon, kid. No need to worry."

Glenn nodded. He knew as well as any of them that they needed Daryl. If something happened, whether Hershel pushed them off his land or not, they needed their crossbow expert.

Glenn awoke with a massive headache. He groaned as he sat up, the sleeping bag shifting around him. Raising his hand to his head, he rubbed his forehead and groaned again. The humid air around him was thick and heavy; making his lungs hurt a bit as he breathed.

As he stood, the tent around him spun. He hissed as he stumbled over to the entrance, quickly unzipping it. Gripping a nearby tree, he steadied himself, rubbing his temples. Lori, who was tending to the fire, quietly stepped over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Glenn, are you alright?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, closing his eyes to block out the view that spun and shifted with every movement and moment.

"I-I'm fine! Just a little dizzy is all," he replied.

"I can get you some water," Lori said.

"No, it's okay," Glenn sighed, opening his eyes again. "It's over now."

Lori nodded and walked back to the fire as Glenn straightened up. Stretching his arms above his head, he cracked his back and shoulders, sighing with relief as the muscles loosened. He looked up, taking notice of the lack of clouds and the high placement of the sun. Frowning, he looked around. Rick and Shane were nowhere in sight and in the distance, he could see T-Dog and Dale working under the hood of his RV. Carol was washing some clothes and hanging them up to dry on a clothesline that was strung between two trees. The fire was low and mostly smoldering. Breakfast had been cooked and eaten a while ago.

Feeling eyes on him, the Asian man turned to see Daryl lying on his side in his tent, the entrance unzipped and wide open to allow the breeze to filter inside. He was reading a book, although he hardly seemed to be paying much attention to it, as he was barely finished with the first ten pages.

"You're up late, kid," the redneck said, his blue eyes locking with Glenn's.

"I haven't slept this late in years, not since high school," Glenn admitted. "It has to be close to noon."

"Past it, I would say," Daryl replied. "Probably closer to one."

"Fuck," Glenn hissed. "I didn't mean to do that!"

"No one seemed to notice too much," Daryl said. "We didn't need someone to run into town."

"Thanks for reminding me of my worth, Daryl," Glenn snarled sarcastically.

"It wasn't meant as a criticism, kid, only the truth. I tell it like I see it," Daryl said, turning back to his book.

"I know."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Don't worry about me, Daryl. Focus on getting better."

"I don't need to. I'll be up by the end of the day."

"I don't doubt it."

Throughout the rest of the day, Glenn kept feeling sicker and sicker. His headache returned and as the day got hotter, he became dizzy more often as he worked alongside T-Dog and Dale. The two men reacted kindly to his sudden symptoms, letting him sit down on the steps of the RV or in the shade whenever he got too dizzy to stand. Lori and Carol brought them all tin cups filled with water every now and then, trying to keep them hydrated. By the end of the day, Glenn felt like shit and as the sun started to vanish behind the trees in the distance, he finally gave in and stumbled back to the tents.

"You really don't look good," Carol said as he approached her and Lori.

"I feel awful, but there's so much that needs to be done," Glenn sighed.

Lori reached out and felt his forehead, recoiling from the heat.

"You weren't bit or anything were you?" she asked.

Glenn shook his head. "I haven't been near a walker since we were out on the highway."

Lori sighed. "It's better that we have you healthy than sick. Go to bed. I can bring you some dinner later."

"I really don't want to-"

"Just do it, kid," Daryl shouted as he stood outside his tent, stretching his arms a bit. "They're right. You look like absolute shit."

Sighing, Glenn raised his hands in defeat and walked towards his tent. A large hand grasped his bicep as he almost stumbled into a tree, steadying him. He glanced up at Daryl, silently thanking the man. Daryl stole a look at the two women, who met his gaze with worried looks. He nodded to them and drove Glenn towards his own tent, pushing the smaller man inside. Forcing the younger man down on his bedroll, Daryl quickly went to grab Glenn's own before laying it out on the floor beside the other man.

"Lay down," Daryl commanded. "You'll sleep in my tent tonight. I'd rather have you near someone stronger if something happens."

"That's thoughtful of you," Glenn replied sarcastically as he followed the other man's command and lay down on the bedroll. He closed his eyes and snuggled against the cooler exterior of the bedroll.

Above him, Daryl stared down at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He glanced up as Lori approached with a small bowl filled with water and a rag. Taking them, Daryl sat down beside Glenn and soaked the rag in the water. Wringing out the excess liquid, Daryl carefully set the rag on Glenn's forehead. He could feel the heat rising from the pale skin as he placed the rag, making him frown heavily.

He watched as Glenn drifted off to sleep, snuggled into the blanket of the bedroll. Daryl could honestly admit to himself that he was worried about the smaller man, although he tried hard not to show it. Every half hour or so, he would rewet the rag and place it on Glenn's hot forehead, but the fever persisted.

When Lori brought them food later that evening, Daryl didn't even have the heart to wake the younger man. He looked exhausted. Dark circles followed the curves of his eyes and the skin of his face seemed paler than normal. He was sick and Daryl really didn't know what to do.

Daryl focused on Glenn alone for the rest of the night, his crossbow tight against his side in case something happened. The only time he drew his attention away from the sick man beside him was around ten o'clock when a disturbance outside distracted him.

"Shane, I'm sure he'll be fine! It's probably just the flu or something," Lori said outside the tent.

"The flu? In summer? Lori, there's no one here to give him the flu!" Shane snapped back. "What if he's been bitten?"

"He hasn't! He said he hasn't been near a walker since we saw them on the highway and that was over five days ago!"

"How do you know? Maybe he got bit when he went out yesterday on that run. Or what if he got up in the middle of the night and we didn't know about it?" Shane asked.

"Be quiet you two! There may be walkers nearby," Rick snarled. "Look, if Glenn isn't better by tomorrow, we'll ask Hershel to take a look at him. Is that fair?"

"Fine, but if he starts getting any worse, I get to shoot him in the fucking head," Shane snarled before he stormed off.

Daryl heard the tent flap zip closed followed by a much quieter conversation between Lori and Rick. Ignoring them both, he turned back to Glenn, who was silent at his side. Running his fingers through the dark hair, Daryl thought about the man he'd come to care so deeply about. Glenn was a huge pain in his ass at times and was as ignorant about survival in the wilderness as a newborn deer, but he did have some redeeming qualities. He was somewhat shy, quiet (even if he often asked stupid questions), and as fast as Daryl if you got him going. The kid was a lover of life that was for sure.

Sighing, Daryl rested against the log that he'd drug into his tent to serve as a backrest. He reached out with his free hand for his crossbow, clutching it tightly. He was prepared to defend his younger lover if he needed to, no matter if the threat was a Walker, that god damn Hershel, or fucking Shane Walsh.

1. I'm pretty sure that Daryl's eyes are blue, but I'm not sure. I checked in a few episodes and that's the color they seemed to be.

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