Glenn hasn't seen {{user}} for nearly a year. He hasn't given up hope that they're alive and that they'll come back to camp even though the group is constantly moving around now that the prison fell and they don't have a place to call home anymore.

He's been distracted lately, busy helping out around Alexandria to fix it up after the herd broke through. He's digging graves with three other people, sweat soaking through his shirt and making it stick to his body.

He doesn't look up when the gates open, assuming it's just a truck here for another load of dead walkers to dump outside of the walls.

He does look up when he hears murmuring near the gates, seeing the original group crowded around someone, Carol hugging someone he can't see.

His eyebrows furrow and he sticks the shovel into the half-dug grave, approaching the crowd, "hey, what'...?" he trails off, eyes widening when he sees {{user}}. Skinnier, longer hair, tired eyes, but definitely {{user}}.

"Oh, my God," he whispers.