Freeing Freya

She watched the doctor push through the door and pull down his surgery mask as he dreadfully walked towards her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am-"

"No. There must be a mistake." She denied.

"I'm sorry, but we did everything we could. She just...couldn't make it." The doctor replied sincerely, unable to look at the patients mother. He was painfully unadjusted to his job.

"Hey, where is she? Is she still in surgery?"

"Harry! She's gone! She's gone." Fae, Freya's mother broke down in Harry's rigid arms.

"What? But they said she was alive, they said she was still breathing." He panicked "What happened?" Harry asked the disappointed doctor. He couldn't muster the strength to look Harry in the eye as he shakily explained what had gone wrong in the surgery room.

"She had several broken bones and was bleeding internally in several places. She was loosing so much blood so fast that a transfusion wouldn't help, our safest bet was to cauterize the the wounds as fast as possi-"

Harry tuned him out and covered his face with his hands as the tears began to spill. He began having a hard time breathing and his crying wouldn't give him the chance to. Collapsing onto one of the couches surrounding him he let out pitiful sob after pitiful sob, wrapping his arms around Fae as she she cried next to him.

They didn't know how long they had cried, but it was long enough for Anne and Gemma, Harry's mother and sister, to show up and cry with them.

Once they were done, they had wiped their faces and stared off blankly until a nurse walked over to them. She asked if they wanted to say goodbye and they rushed after her, following her silently down to the morgue where Freya's body was one of many on silver tables.

Fae walked forward first, looked down on her daughters body for the first time in months and, broke down once again.

"She's not supposed to go before me. Just please give her back to me!" She pleaded. She wasn't ready to let go of her youngest child and she never would be.

Harry couldn't believe she was gone. Even when her colourless body was right before him, it wasn't real. Merely hours ago, the detectives called and she was alive.

"It's not possible." He whispered to himself.

She's not supposed to leave him.

They were supposed to go through life together, whether it was as friends or something more. He didn't get to say he loved her out loud.

He could tell her. He could say it now, but there's no point if she won't hear him.

There's no point if she won't say it back.

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~Two Months Later.~

Harry walked into the Psyche Ward of the hospital where Fae has been instituted. She just broke, wasn't herself anymore.

The night Freya died was when she snapped. Freya's older brothers Easton, Eden and Ezra, had come home from London the next day, and she had asked who they were when she opened the door.

"Oh, well if it isn't the charming lad, Harry! Come to visit me again, have you?" She exclaimed. She wasn't old, so don't imagine her with gray hair up in a bun, sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. She was sitting on the left side of a love seat -so she was closer to the outlet- browsing the internet on her laptop.

"Yes, you know I just can't go my week with out seeing you." Harry joked while hugging her.

"Oh well aren't you just as cheeky as last week." She remembers Harry, just not twenty-two year old Harry. "And y'know," she started then leaned in towards him. "If you keep wearing tight jeans like that, even cutting 'em off won't do, they'll have to amputate you waist down and you'll lose all your goodies." She said as if she were supposed to be whispering, but her volume wasn't following her intentions.

His cheeks flushed bright red. "Well, I'll keep that in mind, I'd like to have kids one day." He laughed, still slightly blushing.

"You better hope you don't have kids like mine. They aren't ever home, always off doing God knows what with themselves. I just always wonder about them, especially my youngest, my daughter, Freya. Oh, she's a beauty," Now that was something she could say again Harry thought, but paid attention as she rattled off frustrations over made up things.

She remembered her triplet sons, and her daughter but, she doesn't remember them growing up to be in their twenties by now.

The conversation went on, with her talking about her children and Harry commenting, and laughing whenever was appropriate. Though, he went rigid whenever she spoke of Freya.

"What's wrong, Harry, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Fae asked when she realized he was being awkward.

"Oh, nothing. I'm fine." He nodded and lied. Fae said nothing, she just gave him a look that mothers give when they know something is wrong.

Harry was going through an internal battle with himself over what he should say next, he couldn't just tell her that her daughter grew up to be an amazing women and that they managed to stay close friends.

He couldn't tell her, her daughter was dead because that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to shout it in her face and make her go through the same horror that he was everyday without her. It wasn't fair to him that she was able to break into this fantasy where Freya was still with her. He didn't believe that she should be in the Psyche. Ward because she wasn't crazy, once you have her there's no way to live without Freya.

"How bout I find your daughter for you?"

Moron! He thought to himself.

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Hi, im the author of this book!

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