Hi there, I'm new to the whole Walking Dead fanfiction thing, so I do apologize if this isn't the best. Reviews are most definitely welcome. :D

-Gabby

As her oceanic eyes stared out the old, bay window apprehensively, he couldn't help but crack a small, bitter smile. Seeing the concerned curve to her brow and thin lips pressed into a line, he sighed, "Christ, girl, you keep lookin' like that and you'll turn into your momma." His voice snapped her out of her trance, and she brought her eyes to meet his own. It was as though he was looking at her mother. The thin face. Those big, blue eyes. The thin frame. She was even wearing her earrings and cross. "Phia?"

Wringing her hands, she finally turned to face him. "Hey, Daryl?" With a grunt and a nod, he signaled for her to continue. "I know I never told you this, but I told Mama and think you should know." Her left hand reached up to fiddle with the cross which hung around her neck. "I know you're not my daddy, but... you were a better one to me than my real one ever was. Mama thought so, too, and... and..."

The wavering in her voice could not be denied. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. A lump was rising in her throat, not letting up regardless of how hard she tried to swallow it back down. "I didn't mean to make ya' cry. I'm sorry." For him, it became hard to tell if she was shaking her head slightly or if it was just recoil from her tiny, now, shuddering body. "Hey, c'mere." His arm wrapped around her bony shoulders.

"Mister Daryl." He suppressed a chuckle. The last time he heard that name was when she screamed it at him after he found her in a closet in an abandoned, old house. "That was you when you found me that day." To be able to look him in the eye, she pulled away slightly. "That was a long time ago, huh?" It was true. She was a woman now, and his hair was growing grays at the sides. Rick, Carl, and Andrea left them. Glenn and Maggie had, too. "Must've been real long because you're my daddy now. I'm not sure you would've liked hearin' that as much then."

A soft, somewhat sad smile came across her face, very similar to the one her mother had given him when he joined their for the discussion about that boy's inevitable demise; the same one he received when he brought her that flower. "You and Momma... you're a lot alike. It's like she's still here with me, but in you, kid."

There were tears slipping down her cheeks now, but that smile that didn't quite reach her eyes remained. "I think Mama'd like to hear you say that." Still gingerly playing with the cross, she gazed out the bay window past the heavy blankets they left open when it was light out. Her mother always preferred it that way. A path of disturbed earth along with a rock she had said appeared to be shaped like a heart and a dried out bouquet of white flowers. "You know, Mama always liked the spring. She'll always be with us then, right? As long as we last here?"

"Course," he replied, joining her gaze upon the stone, flowers, and earth. "Ain't no way she'll miss out on watchin' over us."