She was weak, and growing weaker by the day. With labored breaths, she let her eyes close, wincing at the tears that burned under her eyelids. The sensation reminded her of staying home sick. While all the other kids passed the flu onto each other, she would manage to only get fevers.

Always.

But this time was different. Whatever it was, she had it. A flu? The flu? She couldn't remember exactly what they called it, Caleb and Hershel. A lot of people died from it. That one kid she thought was so funny started the trend. What was his name? Peter? Or Patrick? It hadn't been that long ago, why couldn't she remember his name? Too many to count, too many to remember, a voice in her head answered. Poor kid.

She didn't realize that she was in and out of sleep until she started from the sound of footsteps outside her cell. She was too tired to open her eyes. But she suspected who it could be. The chair beside her bed let out a groan as the visitor sat beside her. She furrowed her brow when she felt a pressure on her stomach. She peeked from under her lashes and scrunched her nose at what looked like a small rock sitting on her belly.

"What's that?" She croaked. She stifled a cough, and shooed her hand at the glass of water that a very concerned Daryl Dixon tried to put up to her lips.

"You need to drink, Stevie." She peered up at him, scowling, but his steely gaze told her that she didn't have a choice. Stevie let him give her a drink like she was an infant. Maybe this was more like staying home from school than she thought.

"Jasper," said Daryl. He placed the glass back down on the table.

"What?"

"Jasper," he said again, nodding at the rock on her stomach. "It's a mineral."

Stevie peered back down at the stone. It was pale green. Like freshly grown moss, it had the appearance of something that belonged in ancient woods. "It's pretty," she said, transfixed on the stone. "What's it for?"

Dutifully attending to his next maternal task, Daryl shook out the bandana from his back pocket and dipped it into the water back on her bedside. "Jasper's a healing stone," he twisted the water out of the cloth. "'Sposed to have healing properties." She closed her eyes again, and leaned into his touch as he placed the cool bandana on her forehead. He gently pressed it into place, and awkwardly moved a stray piece of hair from the middle of her forehead.

"Where does it say how long it takes to start workin'?" Daryl snorted. He never laughed, just snorted.

"Wise ass." When she opened her eyes again, she saw him fidgeting with an arrow, throwing her occasional nervous glances. "You'll be ok though. We got it. Actual medicine, I mean."

"You got it?" She grinned as wide as she could in her weakened state. He nodded, giving a brief but small smile. Stevie gave a short laugh under her breath, followed by some shallow coughs. "My hero!"

Daryl's smile fell at her coughs. "How you feelin' anyways, Peaches?"

"Sweaty," she answered honestly with a characteristic lopsided smile, "but I'm hopin' this pebble will take away all my woes."

"Hey, now listen. I can only let you borrow that jasper. I promised Mrs. Jasper that I'd put it on her husband's grave."

"Aw, man! Daryl, how'm I supposed to get better now?" Daryl snorted.

"Feel better, 'K?" He gave here shoulder a squeeze as he stood up from his chair, and it groaned again in response. "I gotta find Rick, said something about wanting to talk."

"Hey, your bandana…" Stevie reached to pull it off her forehead and hand back to him, but before she could, he rested his hand over the cloth once more.

"Nah, you keep it. It'll help you beat down that fever." He tapped his finger to her forehead before starting towards the exit.

"A pebble and a moist bandana? You must have one massive crush on me, Daryl Dixon." He turned to face her just in time to catch her wink at him.

He snorted, before walking out. "Feel better, Peaches."