34; CATCH TWENTY-TWO (original episode, post season nine)
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FREYA'S FIFTEENTH BIRTHDAY was spent at an ice rink, much to her own and Carl's chagrin. In the months leading up to the celebration, Lori had dedicated at least an hour of each day loosely implicating that Freya needed a hobby that didn't involve spending her days parked in front of a television. It was easy to dodge for the first few weeks, but after a while, it grew tedious and felt like a daily inquisition. To staunch a lecture on a particularly grim day, Freya blurted out that she was interested in ice skating.
Lori was overjoyed, to say the least. So much so that she made reservations for an ice rink and an ostentatious restaurant - that neither Freya or Carl particularly cared for but Rick's pay cheque covered - that night.
Unable to worm her way out of it without confessing to lying, Freya forced a smile through it all and prayed for the car to break down. When it didn't, she asked God for a traffic jam. Instead, the roads had never been clearer and they got there early.
All four grimes' spent far more time on their asses than they did skating, none of them even made it past the assisting barriers. They left an hour early with wet pants and bruises splashed over their limbs but nothing compared to the ache in their ribs from how much time they'd spent laughing at each other falling.
Lori ultimately decided that their unkempt appearances (from the consistent tumbling on the ice) wouldn't bode well with the restaurant she'd chosen and they stopped at a diner for burgers and soda instead. Despite being well on their way to adolescence, Rick carried both of his tired children to the car and then upstairs to their beds when they got home.
It was the best birthday Freya ever had.
Back then, if things went awry, they were quick to fix themselves and turn in her favour. She'd had such a good run of luck - a wonderful childhood with a loving family.
Even if she wasn't able to recall as much of it as she'd like to; her heart remembered. It grew warm every time she thought of her mother's embrace, Carl's goofy little laugh and the way her father's eyes lit up when he smiled.
Standing on the guard's post, the artic temperature biting into her cheeks and nose, Freya watched with an expression of total neutrality as a frail, rimy-limbed Walker impaled itself on one of the defence spikes.
She'd spent the past week wondering if, given the recent tragedy, they should be abandoned as a means of defence. Their participation in protecting the community was so slight she doubted their absence would even be noted, but still - they'd always been there.
