Chapter Text
Bill left before any explanation, but Willy didn’t need much from him. He could recognize silent film actor Meryl Streep anywhere. In the films, in the articles following his uncle’s disappearance, chasing Bill through the forest, etc. Meryl brushed him, letting Willy know he was real. His chest gave a lingering tingle from where his arm touched.
Meryl Streep, in the flesh. Bear’s mother, a well known journalist, is recognizable in those same articles and in Bear’s movie reel. He would bet good money Robert Wilson was running around here. One of the four adults that mysteriously appeared yesterday. That’s a total of three. And there was one more man mentioned in that article.
“UuuuuuuaaaAUGGH!” Willy’s exhale turned into a groan which turned into an outlet of his frustration. It echoed into the woods, reverberating and scaring off birds in the trees around them.
Before the echo subsided, he marched into the stupid fucking hut Bear had made.
“Woah, man, take it easy-” Glenn started. Willy flattened his palm and back handed Glenn across his stupid fucking face. It was a cheap shot, but it got his mouth shut for once. Glenn yelped once, but didn’t say anything, leaving the contact between the hand and cheek to speak for him.
“You shut the fuck up,” Willy hissed, letting Glenn try to move his jaw back into place. He turned and pointed that finger right in his disappointment of a son’s face.
Ron was a grown ass adult, and still always looked on the verge of tears. It was always frustrating, now more than when he was a clingy, helpless child. He was supposed to be a man, so his wet eyes grated Willy’s nerves.
“Did you fucking bring him here?” He asked in a lower tone. Even when he wasn’t yelling, Ron shook. Willy grit his teeth. “Did you bring Stud here?”
Tears were falling down Ron’s face now. Willy would have really lost his shit if the audible whimpering was coming from him, but, lucky for Ron, it was coming from Glenn’s dumb ass kid.
“I asked you a question,” Willy didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to. Ron nodded his head slightly, as it made a fucking difference how rigoursly he admitted it. He pulled his finger back into his fist, and exhaled.
“No, I brought him back,” The hippie said, trying to grab Willy’s attention. “Along with a whole army! Literally, uh, hundreds!”
“Course you did,” Willy spit out, exhaling that angry breath. He looked away from Ron, and swept his gaze to the other dads. “You all are going to be sorry for this one.”
“What, are you scared?” Daryl asked, smug. Willy stilled then. When he stilled, it’s like he froze the whole world with him. Like he controlled the situation in every sense. He liked this about himself, but maybe it was just the world knowing better than pissing him off further.
“You brought the most annoying fucking pansy back to life to fuck with me,” Willy laughed, although it was more release of his irritation. “Whatever this idea was, it’s fucking stupid.”
“Well, you know,” Henry started, adding to Willy’s sour mood. “He really missed you!”
Willy gave him an incredulous look, not sure if this hippie was fucking with him or not. He let out one final sigh. This was the exact same feeling he had when Ron brought home that flea infested mutt. But this time, he wasn’t going to entertain this. He left the yurt, heading towards that magical pull he felt earlier, already dreading whatever annoying conversation he’d inevitably be forced into.
---
“Yo, Glenn, you good?” Nick whispered.
“Course dude,” He said, counting his teeth with his tongue, glad that they all seemed there after that smack. “Willy’s all bark and no bite.” He gave Nick a smile, which was not returned.
“I saw Meryl run by,” Nick whispered, glancing out of the yurt. He was only tied with rope, and had a good view out the entrance way. He sniffed, rubbing his face roughly into his shoulder. The quiver in his voice disappeared, but it didn’t leave Glenn’s head. “He was chasing Bill. He said something about Hildy, I think.”
“Oh, no,” Dread washed over Henry. “Oh man, if my dad knows Hildy’s here, oh gosh, I’m not sure how he’ll react, but I know it won’t be good.”
“Who knows, Henry,” Daryll chimed in, in the light tone of someone who had the least at stake at the moment. “Maybe he had a change of heart. Maybe Hildy got through to him.”
“I know if my mom came back as a zombie to yell at me, I’d definitely try to rethink some shit,” Glenn shuddered.
Henry sighed, unable to not affirm someone's idea, no matter how improbable. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, you know, I try to teach the boys that everyone can be redeemed. I even made them watch that cartoon, Avatar: The Last Airbender, a few times to get that message through. And because I thought the air benders would be a good role model for the lifestyle we try to maintain at the Oak-Garcia household. You guys ever catch that one? Mercedes is a huge fan, even if we’re not big on television in the house.”
“That show fucking rips,” Nick agreed.
“I didn’t see that one,” Ron said, sounding less shell shocked. “They took it off Netflix and I lost my debit card, so I couldn’t get HBO. Is it any good?”
“You know what Ron, it’s one of my favorite shows!” Henry said, suddenly distracted from the literal world ending situation at hand. “You know it’s inspiring, has a lot of spirituality, a lot of environmental messages, and really is about how violence isn’t the answer. I was hoping my boys would take away some positive lessons from it.”
“Dude, is that why Lark kept trying to stick paper clips in the outlets at school? To be a lightning bender?” Nick asked.
“I mean, it’s definitely one of the reasons, sure,” Henry relented, having flashbacks of one of the many parent teacher conferences. “I mean, he explained it all in the parent teacher conference, but that was up there in his reasoning.”
“Did you guys watch the second show, with the chick avatar?” Glenn asked, his jaw seeming to be in place.
“Well,” Henry winced. “Glenn, I think it’s a bit reductive to call Korra the ‘chick avatar’-
“Oh my god, shut up!” Morgan loudly whispered, dashing into the yurt.
Wait, no. Morgan Freeman died. Morgan Freeman is extremely dead. Glenn identified the body. Glenn organized her funeral. Glenn became the primary emergency contact for Nick. Glenn had to transfer all their household accounts and bills in his name. Glenn had to call a million people and companies and painfully explain over and over again that Morgan Freeman had passed away in a car accident, and will no longer be returning any calls.
But there she was, right half of her head shaved, the other half dyed maroon. She was wearing the same boots she wore everyday when she was alive, and a t-shirt from a band he could no longer listen to. Even now, the sleeves were torn off, and long, messy slits ran down the arm holes.
“How the fuck are you guys talking about cartoons right now!?” She continued, taking a look around the yurt, and never once making eye contact with Glenn. This only confirmed this was a hallucination. For once, Glenn Close had nothing to say. The entire world seemed to be quiet
“Woah, who the hell are you?” Daryl asked.
“Your hero, asshole…” Morgan’s snappy reply had not bite as she visually searched the yurt.
Morgan’s eyes darted around wildly, but as soon as she laid eyes on Nick, tied up on the floor to her right, her face broke and eyes grew wide. Suddenly limp, she dropped to her knees, sliding a bit in a way that would definitely not fly with Glenn’s eroded cartilage. She didn’t even wince when she pulled Nick to her chest, squeezing and burying her face in his tangled hair.
“Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God…” She repeated quickly, as if stopping would make Nick disappear. Her eyes were squeezed rightly shut and arms shook, but Nick was frozen and wide eyed.
“Mom?” He whispered, as if he was sure he was wrong and he’d be punished for thinking it was her. Morgan sniffed and let out a shaky laugh, pulling away just to take his round face in her hands and smile. His face seemed like it was crafted to fit perfectly in his mother’s hands.
“Nicky, you’re so big…” She said, letting out another laugh, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks. Nick didn’t smile, but his face contorted like he was holding something inside himself. A cry, a laugh, a smile- Who knew? Maybe not even Nick knew.
Nick was always told he looked exactly like his dad. Now, it was obvious they only acted like each other. When he was emotional, he wrinkled his eyes and quivered his lips exactly like his mother. They’re cheeks seemed to push out more than the average person when they held back tears. Neither Nick or Morgan knew that, of course, how would they? Glenn remembered, but rarely saw his son like this.
Morgan leaned forward and gave her son another squeeze, kissing the top of his head once, then twice. She pulled away again, breathing heavily, and shook her head. It seemed to physically pain her to let go of her son, and Nick looked scared that she was about to leave him again. She turned him around a bit, so he didn’t face her and she could reach his hand ties.
“Morgan?” Glenn asked, like he still couldn’t believe it. He felt like everything was moving too fast, but he was frozen. He wasn’t breathing, but his heart was beating a mile a minute.
“Me and your grandma Chris,” Morgan told Nick, pulling out a large decorative knife with a very dull point and began cutting his ties. She would occasionally rub a hand over his arm, as if to remind him she was still there. The ties fell off easily, as if they were soft and malleable. “We were brought here by your great grandpa- He said you spent time together?”
“Y-yeah. Me and Meryl are cool…” Nick nodded, voice as calm as ever.
“Yeah, he’s a cool guy.” She sniffed again. “They brought us all over to help out with… Whatever this is.”
“Morg?” Glenn repeated, a little more forcefully.
“And-and, I just missed you so much,” The ties were off, and she gathered Nick in her arms again. This time, he threw his arms back around her, squeezing even tighter. His eyes were closed, and a few tears were starting to fall. Nick Close never cried. He hadn’t cried in front of anyone since they put her in the ground, so it was only fitting the next time would be now.
“I miss you, mom,” Nick’s voice was more of a choke, and he was sobbing. Morgan peppered the top of his head with kisses, before pulling him back to take in his face again. Her eyes shone with pride. She could just tell her boy was perfect. There was more genuine emotion on Nick’s face than any of the dads had ever seen.
Morgan kissed his rounded cheeks a few more times, wiping away the tears. She ran her hand across his head, before reluctantly getting up from the floor. Nick’s face dropped when her hands were out of reach.
“Let me get these guys out,” She explained, wiping the dirt from the seat of her pants.
To Glenn’s disbelief, she started with Ron, who was at the other end of the line of dads.
“Morgan!” He nearly shouted, spooking Nick. He looked back at his dad, like he forgot he was even there.
“Glenn, shut up,” She said, locking eyes on the vines around Ron. She began sawing at them, the knife gliding through as easily as they had with Nick’s ties. The knife was stubby in comparison, so the process was slow. “I’m cutting you out last. I know you’re gonna get all emotional and shit, so get it together.”
“Well, no shit I’m gonna get emotional!” Glenn scoffed, feeling like he was going crazy. “I fucking love you! And you died!”
“Aw, that’s sweet. The ‘I love you’ part, I mean.” Henry cooed.
“Oh wow, you’re Nick’s mom?” Daryl asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.
“No shit,” She answered, wincing a bit. “Sorry, I’m frazzled, we gotta hurry.”
“Oh, is that why you’re crying,” Ron asked Morgan about halfway through. “Because you’re nervous. I thought it was because you missed your family. Because you died.”
“I’m not crying. What? Shut up,” Morgan rubbed her face roughly into her shoulder. Her crassness had not subsided over the years, Glenn noticed fondly. Nick got up, and moved so he was standing closer to his father. Neither Close tore their eyes away from Morgan, but Nick’s hand did find his way to Glenn’s, pinned against his side. “You’re crying. Who even are you?” She said defensively.
“Oh, well hi, that’s Ron,” Henry started, voice returning to a more agreeable tone. “I’m Henry Oak, nice to finally meet you.” “Daryl Wilson here. I’d shake your hand, but-”
“Okay, fine, hi everyone, I’m Morgan, I’m Glenn’s dead wife,” She rolled her eyes, Ron finally free. With the last vine around his right leg gone, he stretched himself out. “No pants? Nevermind,” Ron started brushing of the remaining dirt from himself while Morgan started on Henry.
“Holy shit dude, you are rank,” She recoiled as she was less than four inches from Henry's body, getting to work on his vines. Again, she cringed at her own rudeness. “Shit, sorry, trying to not be a bitch, sorry.”
“Oh, it’s okay! I understand this is a very high energy situation, but I would never refer to a woman as the b-word, let alone because of her understandable attitude under stress,” Glenn noticed the more Henry spoke, the faster she worked.
“Your mom brought me back,” She told Henry. “Chris just caught Bill, she was beating him with a tree branch when we split up.”
“Oh wow, Morgan, I’m sorry we got you caught up in all this,” Henry apologized, guilt in his voice.
Morgan’s hands stilled, no longer having a bit of a shake. She looked up at Henry curiously.
“My boys are in trouble,” She said softly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I get to see them again. I get to see my son,” She nearly whispered the last word. “I get to see my Glenn.” She looked back down, cutting the vines with new determination. “I should be thanking you for all this bullshit.”
“Oh, well, you're welcome,” Ron said. The last of the branches fell from Henry, freeing his arms.
“Wow, that’s a nifty knife! Cut threw all that like butter- Oh, I get it!” Henry’s eyes lit up. “A Butter Knife!”
“Nice to meet you, thanks for this,” Daryl said as Morgan moved onto him. Morgan nodded.
“Yup,” She said under her breath. It was clear now that she was trying desperately not to look at her husband-her widower. Glenn’s stare was unrelenting, and she couldn’t help but peak through the side of her eye.
“When I cut you down, you gotta be cool, okay?” She said, not looking at Glenn.
“You changed your hair.”
“What?” She paused, staring up at him directly. His eyes were soft.
“It was green, when you died,” Glenn stated. Morgan glanced down at the vibrant rust-colored locks resting on her shoulder.
She huffed out a laugh, completely caught off guard. “What, you think heaven wouldn’t have hair dye? C’mon,” She returned to her cutting.
“I just always imagined it green. When I’d see you again.”
Morgan tried not to let her hand still, and focused on getting this bear of a man free. She did have to rub her face into her shoulder again, but played it off cool. “Glenn, we can do all this romantic crap later, we have a whole plan, and we’re super behind schedule because Henry lost his glasses-”
“My glasses?” Henry asked, touching his face.
“Yeah, something about enchanting them or whatever. I gotta get you guys about two miles away from here, so-” With a final pull, Daryl Wilson was now a free man. He bent over and picked up the broken glasses from the dirt, and handed them to Henry.
“Here you go pal,” He said. Henry took them, grimacing at the shattered glass and bent metal.
With a sigh, he tossed them over his shoulder. “Well, they weren’t prescription anyways.” A beat passed. “That’s no excuse for littering.” He muttered and grabbed them off the floor, shoving them in his pocket.
Morgan stood up right in front of Glenn. Neither moved, just taking in eachothers faces. One had aged, with knew laugh lines and wrinkles from years of a busy life. The other hadn’t, and was familiar only from pictures and memories. To each of them, the face they stared at made them want to cry.
“You gonna be cool?” She asked. Glenn hesitated, then nodded.
“Let’s get this shit over with.” Glenn said firmly. Morgan nodded, and got to work, cutting him out.
“Babe, can I ask you something?” She whispered, close enough that Glenn felt her breath. He felt stars run down his spine.
“What’s up?” He murmured back.
“Did you piss your pants?”
“...We’ve been here a long time.”