Never Underestimate Your Importance

"Wow Ava! This has to be the best peach cobbler I've ever had! In fact, I don't think my mom ever made peach cobbler."

"Haha, thanks little man." I smiled and ruffled Carl's hair before standing up. Grabbing his bowl and spoon, I made my way to the door, saying, "Now, I've got to make sure there's some left so Daryl can have some. He's a sucker for my peach cobbler."

As I opened the door, I heard his voice call out, "Ava? Do you think Daryl will find Sophia?" I turned around, leaning against the door hinge, "Yeah. I think he will."

"But it's been a few days! What if-"

I cut him off saying, "Carl, sometimes you've just gotta have faith like a mustard seed. Even though that mustard seed is teeny-tiny, once you plant it, it grows to be this big bush! Plus, Daryl taught me all I know." I paused, tapping my fingers on the wood, "I'm going to tell you this but you've got to promise that you won't mention it to anyone!"

Carl sat up straighter and nodded his head. I smiled, "When Daryl was about nine, he was lost in the woods for about nine days. No one even bothered to look for him. He survived by sleeping in trees, eating berries, and using poison oak as toilet paper. But what did he do? He found his way home and survived. His butt itched something awful, but he survived. So if you ever doubt if Daryl can do something, just remember that survived the woods for nine days."

Carl smiled and nodded. I nodded back, "Now get some sleep. Sooner you heal, faster you can be outside with your dad." I walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind me. Turning around, I walked straight into a human wall. Looking up, I saw Rick's tired eyes looking down at me. Backing up slightly, I cleared my throat, "He just ate some peach cobbler so he's doing okay. Give him about another day and he'll be out looking for Sophia with everyone else."

Rick just nodded, muttering a 'thank you' and walked quietly into his son's room. Depositing Carl's dishes in the sink, I put what was left of the cobbler in a clean bowl. Grabbing a spoon, I made my way to where Daryl had pitched his tent. But before I could walk down the porch stairs, Hershel caught me by the elbow, saying, "When you get back, I'll take a look at those stitches and see if we can go about taking them out." I nodded, smiling.

Arriving at the door to his tent, I saw his boots resting on the ground outside. I slipped my sneakers off and called out, "Knock knock!" I grinned as I heard a rough mumble, "Who the hell's there?" I answered, "It is I, The girl who comes bearing the gift that is known as peach cobbler." It was quiet for just a second before I heard rustling and a grunt, "Well why didn't you say that to begin with? Getcha ass in here woman! And don't forget the fuckin' cobbler."

I let out a soft laugh as I pulled back the flap covering the entrance to Daryl's tent. As I walked in, I saw him lying down on a pile consisting of sleeping bags and blankets. "Got enough?" I said, nodding my head towards the ground. Daryl shrugged as he sat up and reached for the bowl in my hands. I slapped his hand away, "Greedy".

He sat back and pouted. Looking up at me, he bit his bottom lip, letting it slide out from between his teeth, "Please?" Puffing my cheeks out at him, I handed the bowl to him and he snatched it from my hands. Spooning the cobbler into his mouth, he motioned with the spoon to the ground, "We ain't on ceremony here. Sit 'ya ass down." I shook my head, "Nah. If I sit down, I might not be able to get back up again." Daryl snorted, "Darlin' 'ya ain't as old as that old man inside that house. Now sit 'ya ass down 'fore I pull 'ya down." I mock-saluted, "Sir, yes sir!", before trying to discreetly wrap my arm around my stomach, my hand resting on my side to keep the stitches in place. As I lowered myself down on the blankets, a small hiss escaped from between my teeth.

Daryl's head snapped up, his brow wrinkled with confusion, "What's that face for?" I shrugged, "What face? This is my everyday face." He took his spoon and pointed it at me, "Don't fuck with me, Ava! I've known you too long to know when somethin's up wit' 'ya." I let out a quick laugh, my eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling, "Nothing's wrong with me Daryl. You're just makin' a mountain out of a molehill." Shit! I can't let him know. He's just gonna flip if he finds out!

Setting his bowl to the side, he sat up on his knees and shuffled a little towards me, "Then whys yer arm over yer stomach like 'ya sick?" Shit! I felt my heartbeat speed up as I quickly dropped my arm. As the corner of his mouth rose up in a small grin, he motioned with his finger, "C'mon, lift yer shirt up." I shook my head, "No, Daryl, I'm fine really..."

"Shit! What the fuck happened Ava?!" He said as he rolled up the hem of my shirt because I had refused. I sighed and closed my eyes, my voice lowering out of defeat, "Nothing, Daryl. I told you I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about."

"Like hell there's nothin' t'worry 'bout!" His voice growing louder. "Who the fuck did this t'ya? 'Ya better tell me Ava or I swear I'm gon'a go into the woods and hunt down this motherfucker that did that!" Standing up, he towered over me, "Better yet, I'm gon'a find ol' gran'pa man and get him to te-"

I stood up fast, feeling a shot of pain in my side, and clamped my hand over his mouth. Ignoring the throbbing pain, I glared at Daryl, my gaze matching the one his icy blues were giving, "Shut up! You're gonna bring your whole group over with your bellyachin'!" Wrapping his hand around my wrist, he pried my hand off his mouth, "Why the fuck did you not think to tell me about this?" Looking off to the side, I mumbled, "Because it wasn't important at the time." As his hand slid into mine, his fingers resting comfortably between mine as his thumb gently traced circles into my palm, his voice held a gentle tone as he whispered, "And why would 'ya think 'ya ain't important, A?"

My gaze locked back onto his, "Because, there was a boy with a gunshot wound much worse than mine that just got out of surgery and there's a little girl whose mama probably won't ever see her again because of some fuckin' virus that's caused the dead to rise and fuckin' eat each other! And that's why, Daryl. That's why I didn't tell you because right now, those children are so much more important than I ever will be!" Prying my hand from his warm grip, I took a step back as tears threatened to fall down my cheeks as I muttered, "Bring the bowl back to the house in the morning." Stepping outside, I slipped my sneakers back on before turning around to head to the house. Walking through the door, I saw Hershel sitting in the living room. Pausing, I said, "I'll be upstairs if you still want to look at my stitches." He nodded and I made my way up to the room I was sharing with Maggie.

Flinging the door open, I found Maggie already in bed reading a book. Looking up, she smirked, "Have a steamy chat with your boyfriend?" I huffed as I shucked my jeans off, replacing them with a pair of sweatpants, "No. And he's not my boyfriend." She shrugged and went back to her book, "Shame. You two look good together." Ignoring her comment, I changed into a tank top, throwing my dirty clothes in the corner. A knock on the door interrupted our silence. Herschel popped his head in, announcing his presence.

After a few minutes, my stitches were out, replaced with a clean bandage and a doctor's advice about taking it easy the next few days. Shutting off the lights, I crawled under the covers but before I could even shut my eyes, I could hear Maggie's voice asking, "So I take it you had trouble in paradise?" I scoffed, "What paradise?"

By the rustling of the sheets and the moving of the bed, I could tell Maggie was turning over on her side, "What's wrong, Ava? You've hardly said a word since you came back. Wanna share?" I rolled over to face her in the dark, "Daryl's mad at me 'cause I didn't tell him about my wound." In a whisper, I continued to tell her everything that happened not just an hour ago. "And to top it all off, he was just holding my hand while his stupid thumb drew circles in my palm. I mean, he's only held my hand once and when that happened, he was just helping me down the stairs. He sure as hell didn't draw fuckin' circles in my palm!" Maggie was quiet for a minute, but I swear I could feel her smile even though its pitch dark in our room, "He loves you, Ava. Mark my words. He may not've said it yet, but he does." And that was apparently the end of this conversation.

- Third Person POV -
As she left his tent, Daryl stood at the opening, his arms crossed over his chest, watching her retreating shadow march back to the house. Sighing, he whispered, "I just wish 'ya could see how fuckin' impor'ant 'ya are to me." He watched until the screen door slammed shut behind her. Looking up towards the lit window he figured was her's, he smiled to himself, "'Ya always will be fuckin' impor'ant t'me. Always have and always will be." When the light turned off, making the window dark, the silent hunter retreated back to his tent, making a mental note to take the bowl back to the house, first thing in the morning.

HappyGoLuckyGirl: thank you so much for your comment. I wish I was a better writer than I am now. I read stories written by others, books that are published, or even fanfic that it written better than mine and I always wish I could write like that. I always have this fear that when I write, I might ramble or that what I'm wanting the reader to picture, isn't always happening. But again thank you so much for your encouragment! :)