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Glenn carries an asleep Nick over one shoulder like he’s five again. Poor kid was tired.
Glenn’s tired too, more than he’s ever been in his whole life.
There’s something melancholy about seeing his actual house again. He’s not sure why this surprises him.
Henry had offered to walk them to the porch, the twins leaning against his sides, conked out too. Glenn declined and Henry gave him a sad, sympathetic smile.
That sort of smile would’ve normally gotten on his nerves a little, but he appreciated it for what it was, for once.
Nick’s lighter than he expected. Maybe it’s just the newfound muscle, but Glenn can’t help but feel sad about this.
Nick was never a petite kid. He was built like his mom and lived off leftovers and junk food like Glenn.
Maybe he should start cooking homemade meals.
God, he’s a shitty dad.
Glenn wrestles with his keys in one hand, but stops and takes a moment at the door. Rests his head against it, lets the tears sting his eyes.
Then he sniffs and shakes his head. Gotta get Nick to bed first.
And hey, they’re both alive right? He can’t be that bad.
He’s a better dad then that fucking cop.
Nick wakes up before Glenn manages to unlock the door. He sets him down.
They enter silently.
It’s a really nice place, Glenn thinks. He can’t wait to get in his own bed.
Nick wonders around, looking at all the art pieces like he’s seeing them for the first time. He runs his hands over the couch.
“I was gonna go take a nap,” Glenn says.
Nick looks at him through his bangs, dazed and oddly solemn.
“Cool,”
Glenn gives him a thumbs up.
Cool.
Next morning, he makes sure to wake up before Nick and goes searching for breakfast recipes.
Pancakes, bacon, eggs. Classic. That’s exactly what they need after living off that weird fantasy realm bullshit.
Except there’s nothing in the fridge besides some takeout that’s definitely gone bad by now, a half empty pack of soda, and a spoiled milk jug.
Glenn considers waking Nick up so they can go on an early morning father-son shopping trip, but that sounds exactly like something Darryl would do, and he doesn’t need the two of them ending up like him and Grant.
Solo it is.
But he really doesn’t want to brave modern Earth society on his own.
The only person he knows willing to go to a grocery store at 7 in the A.M. is Henry Oak.
Which is perfect, actually. He’s still a little skeptical about Henry’s cooking, but he figures he’d have at least some decent meal advice.
He writes a note telling Nick not to make his own breakfast.
It’s not that Glenn doesn’t know how to cook by the way, he knows the basics.
But he still can’t help but feel out of his league. Darryl and Henry come up with these elaborate dinners to feed their families, while he just puts pasta in a pot with some canned sauce. Hell, even Ron gets creative!
(Glenn is especially curious to try out that spaghetti casserole)
“You know, I’m really glad you reached out,” Henry says, pushing his own cart. “I think this whole transition thing is gonna be tough on everybody,”
Glenn nods.
“We gotta stick together, man,” He glances at his list. “You know of a way to make bacon not so greasy?”
“Well, there’s turkey bacon,” Henry elbows him and grins. “But you could also do a vegan alternative…,”
“ What ?” Glenn leans against his cart and turns to Henry, mouth agape. “That is heresy, my friend,”
Henry laughs hard. An old lady perusing at the deli glances and shuffles farther from them.
“Or, you know, whatever you’re comfortable with,” Henry shrugs with a smirk.
“No, I need you to stop and explain that vile shit to me,”
Turns out you can make eggplant taste like meat if you really want it to.
Supposedly.
Glenn invites Henry over to make it, while he works on the pancakes and eggs.
He mostly wants to see Nick’s reaction when they reveal he’s actually eating a vegetable that tastes good. And not even a cool vegetable.
They’ve had this discussion many times before. Eggplant is one step above corn on the cool-scale. Corn is a fucking dweeb.
(Artichoke is on the top of this list, celery is on the very bottom)
(“It’s basically just water!” -”Yeah, it’s like water having an identity crisis”)
“Hey,” Glenn says softly.
Nick is quick to open his eyes like he wasn’t even asleep.
“Hey,” He says back, looking at the wall.
“Henry made us breakfast,”
Nick grimaces. Glenn leans against the doorframe and snickers.
“It’ll be great, dude, I promise,”
Nick sighs.
“Gotta get my thing,”
Glenn gives him another thumbs up.
“‘Morning, Nick!” Henry booms when he finally comes out. “Why don’t you come grab a plate?”
The kid rubs his eyes and gives Glenn a this-guy’s-a-lot-for-8-in-the-morning glance. Glenn gives him a there’s-a-secret-vegetable-in-here-and-you-won’t-even-know look back.
“What kinda bacon is this?”
Crap, he caught on immediately.
“You like it?” Henry asks.
“ I like it,” Glenn says.
“It’s just crispier than what we usually get, it’s pretty good though,” Nick takes another bite.
Glenn and Henry side-eye each other and grin.
Nick’s eyes dart between the two of them.
“What,” He deadpans.
They both go to speak at the same time.
“Sorry, man, I-,”
“No, no you go first,”
Glenn rubs his hands together like he’s about to reveal the truth of the universe.
“It’s not meat is it?” Nick says before he can say it.
“Yeah,” Glenn loses the grin and deflates in his chair.
“Well, I figured since Henry’s eating it,” Nick shrugs. “Is it the eggplant?”
Henry looks at his plate glumly.
“We spoiled the surprise,” He mumbles, only slightly serious.
Nick snorts.
“I was wondering why it was all cut up on the counter,”
They nod dejectedly.
“It’s hella good though!” Nick assures Henry. “You should teach him how to make this stuff,”
“He did,” Glenn smirks. “AND I made the eggs and pancakes myself,”
Henry pats him on the arm.
“And we’re all very proud of you,”
“Dick,”
“That was genuine!”
“It was kinda dickish,” Nick agrees.
Something feels different and Glenn almost couldn't thank Henry enough.