I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

Confrontation

It had taken Tara a long time to reach Alexandria again on foot. Holing up in abandoned barn overnight, she had spend the next two days walking, using a piece of metal pipe she had found to defend herself from any stray walkers that came into contact with her as she went.

It was certain to say that she was still a little shell shocked by the events at the Sanctuary.

Part of her knew she had made a mistake going there, causing tensions between Blake and Negan as she had done. But on the other hand, she had needed to see Blake, to make sure she was ok.

But the realisation of just what this war had taken from Blake had truly hit Tara hard.

Her friend had lost a baby. Something living, growing inside her, for what? Rosita's stab at revenge?

Had one silly moment really cost her friend that happiness of seeing her own baby growing up to live a full and happy life.

Even Negan, who Tara despised, had lost a kid. And Tara wouldnt have wished that on anyone.

And so after her arduous walk back to the community, her feet blistered and her heart heavy, it took all of Tara's strength to stop herself from launching herself at Rosita who, even at this time, was sat up on the porch of her large white house, very obviously conspiring with Sasha in hushed voices.

It was early morning now and very few people seemed to be up, a pale sun clinging to the sky doing its best to dry up the wetness on the ground from the storm the previous night.

The wet sounds of Tara's boots hitting the asphalt came faster and faster as she approached the house ahead of her.

How dare they. After all Rosita had done. After all she had been responsible for, THIS was still her priority?!

The two women looked up as she approached, stuffing the papers they were both pouring over, behind themselves hastily.

"H-Hey-" began Sasha offering Tara a brief frozen smile.

But Tara was angry now, brow furrowed, moving quickly up the porch steps and coming to stand in front of the two seated women, looking unkempt and sweaty.

"Where have you been?" asked Rosita smirking, trying to obviously deflect from their guilty stances. "You look like you've-"

But Tara didn't give her a chance to finish, cutting across her angily before she say another word.

"She was your friend, Rosita!" Tara said in raised voice. "Your friend. And yet you went there and tried to kill her?!"

At once, Rosita visibly paled at Tara's words.

She got to her feet, eyes darting back and forth up and down the street, lifting a hand.

But it was Sasha, at Tara's side that spoke first.

"Listen, let's go inside and talk about this in private-" she began, touching the dark-haired woman's forearm lightly.

But Tara merely glared at her, cutting her off before she could finish, snatching her arm away.

"Why? Because you're scared Rick's gonna find out what she risked?" Tara cried furiously, before turning back to Rosista as she spoke finally.

"I did it for all of us," she said through gritted teeth, chin lowered darkly. "It was Negan I was aiming for. And just because SHE got in the way-"

"She?" Bit Tara shaking her head in utter disbelief, angry tears pricking at her eyes. "SHE was your friend Rosita. You, me and her, we had dinner together, the night before she left. How the hell can you talk about her like she means nothing to you, huh?"

But Rosita gave a hiss now, stepping towards Tara and jabbing a finger down at the space between their feet.

"She stopped meaning anything to me the day she started screwing the enemy," the brown-haired woman snarled, curling her lip. "It was Negan I was trying to kill, and it's not my problem that she got hit instead."

Tra gaped, gazing back at Rosita with an incredulous look plastered across her face.

How the hell could she be so cold?

So ruthless? And for what? There was no bringing Abraham back now. Or Spencer. So how would killing Blake help things?

But she knew that this was just the beginning. That had been just Rosita working alone, but with the two of them here, making plans, deciding on strategies, she knew it would only be a matter of time before more lives were lost. And Tara prayed it wouldn't be Blake's.

She was silent for a few seconds, her eyes falling at the papers stuffed down the back of the pocrch furniture, just about visible,fluttering away in the early morning breeze.

"I know what your plan is....but I swear, if you try anything, I'm going straight to Rick," Tara murmured, clutching at straws. Trying her best to stop them in whatever way she could.

But Rosista obviously wasn't going to take this lightly. And, taking another step into Tara, she jabbed her in the chest with her finger.

"Why are you trying to protect them, Tara, huh?" said Rosista sounding flustered. "She abandoned us for him. You saw it with your own eyes. She gave us up for him, for those people...the same people who killed Denise. How can you defend that? Surely you want to see him pay for that too?"

At Rosita's stark words, Taar felt a lump appear in her throat.

Of course she wanted the Saviours to pay for what they had done to Denise, of course she did.

But at the end of everything, Blake was still her friend. And despite what she had done, that didn't change that.

Blake had protected her at the Sanctuary, made sure no harm came to her. And so Tara knew now that she needed to do the same. To return the favour. For if there wasn't friendship and love in this world, what else did they have left?

And so, letting her eyes fall now, she gave a nod of her head.

"Y-your right..." she lied. "You're right. I-I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight."

But she was thinking straight, she knew that now..

And with that, she allowed Rosita and Sasha to pick up their things and head inside in silence, leaving her alone.

Tara waited there on the porch until the screen door behind her swung closed, before glancing back up at it.

But she wasn't done.

She wasn't going to let them get away with this.

And so lifting her eyes to the large white house on the far opposite corner of the street, she knew where she needed to go....who she needed to go to...

With her mind made up, Tara slowly dragged her tired form back down the porch steps and up the empty street...

...stopping only when she reached Rick's door.