65; THAT'S HOW IT HAPPENED (season eight, episode eight)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FREYA WAS NO stranger to death. It was one of the two main consistencies of the past three years- the stars decorated the night sky and people died unjustly. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, and yet it did, because Freya had never expected it to be her. She was the most equipped to survive after Daryl himself. So, how the hell did this happen?
And perhaps more importantly- how did she fail to notice before it was too late?
Tariq walked in front of her, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure she was following him every other second. She couldn't meet his eyes. It wasn't his fault, she knew that but there was an undeniable link between him and the death of people she loved.
Was it Devin's fault? Had she brought that death upon herself?
Yes.
But had she deserved it?
No.
Somewhere between losing both parental figures, her sense of morality became warped and that wasn't her fault. Grief changed a person's entire way of thinking. To Devin, the world had lost its greyness and simply became black and white. Tariq and Trudi were guilty by association, and further guilty for actual involvement, how was Devin to know their circumstances? It was ridiculous to expect rationality of someone buried deep in grief.
Perhaps she could blame Rocco, the one who'd actually pulled the trigger.
But still. . . Even he had valid reasoning for doing so. If someone shoots at you- you shoot back. That was an unwritten rule.
Tariq turned to her with his swollen face, blood oozing from the wound on his brow bone and the welt on his lip. "Are you-"
"I'm fine," Freya said sharply.
"I'm sorry," He apologised genuinely, sincerity shining in his umber-coloured irises.
Freya shook her head, refusing to let the conversation go any further. She couldn't hear it, not right now. She needed time to process, time to learn how to breathe again because it felt like her lungs had collapsed on that incline and they were yet to recover.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, feet scuffing against the road as growls echoed in the surrounding woods. He was thinking about Trudi and she was thinking about how the hell she'd got herself into this situation again.
Carl was on top of the guard's post when they reached Alexandria. At the sight of his sister, a grateful smile tugged at his lips and he scurried down the ladder to meet her as Scott removed the covering and pulled open the gate.
Freya tensed when Carl all but charged at her, tackling her in an uncharacteristically tight embrace that she could barely reciprocate.
She patted his back lightly and pulled away just as quickly as he had sprung himself onto her.
