Chapter Text
She’d been driving for nearly 8 hours without any break. The snow started sometime in hour three, then sun began to set, and pretty soon she could barely see the lines on the road.
When she was a girl she remembered sitting next to her father and looking out the windshield at the incoming snow. It looks like we’re flying into the night sky, she told him. Do you see it, too?
You can dream in the stars, my love, and I’ll keep my eyes on the storm.
Memories of Ned Stark felt sharper than they had in years driving on these empty country roads. She forced herself to look through the streaks of blinding ice and find the divider.
Finally, she spotted a sign half covered by wind blown snow that reads ‘Welcome to Castle Black’. It was even more of a ghost town than she was expecting. The homes were older, some falling apart, and a shocking number of for sale signs blew back and forth, like they were desperate for anyone’s attention. It took another 15 minutes before she reached what appeared to be the downtown. At least there were signs of life here. A main street with streetlights, cars haphazardly parked on the side of the road that weren’t covered in snow yet. Two or three businesses with lights on inside and people moving about.
Sansa was willing to take her chances. She pulled into an available spot and gave the inside of her car a quick glance. She’d left in such a hurry that everything was a mess. In her backseat was a garbage bag full of clothes still on hangers, her backpack full of books she needed to return to the library, student exams she needed to grade. Somewhere on the ground she’d thrown her passport, her birth certificate, the last family christmas card she kept on her fridge. Next to her in the passenger seat was her winter coat that she’d rarely used in King’s Landing, but was glad she thought to grab it. Underneath lay her phone. She turned it off before she left and realized she might as well have left it there. She wouldn’t be using it anytime soon. She had her wallet, too, but left behind all her credit cards. She stopped at an ATM before leaving so she would only need to use cash. She felt ridiculous at the time, and hastily stashing wads in different nooks and crannies of her car, but she felt safer that way. Her wallet was thicker, but it didn’t weigh her down.
She grabbed her coat and wallet, leaving all the rest of her worldly possessions locked behind her, and made her way into the small town pub. She got a few looks, as she had expected. Normally she put so much care into her appearance but tonight she had more important things to worry about. She had her turtleneck on and that was the most important. No one would be looking at her close enough to see where the bruises peeked out of the top. She shivered as she sat down alone at a table, regretting not taking the time to put on actual shoes before she left. She was in such a hurry that she decided her slippers were the warmest shoes she could manage.
“Hey there, what can I get started for ya?” A woman who looked to be around Sansa’s age, if not younger, approached her. She had wide eyes, but they weren’t judgemental so much as they were curious. Perhaps even a little concerned.
“Just water, thank you.”
“Sure thing,” she left a menu in front of her, “I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Sansa looked around at the place and was unsurprised to see mostly old men gathered together on this snowy night enjoying their drinks and their time away from their wives, frequently braving the cold to smoke their cigarettes. Their eyes were uncomfortably glued to her solitary form.
The waitress returned shortly and Sansa finally asked what she’d been wanting to since she walked inside. “Um, excuse me, but I’m looking for Jon Snow. Do you know if he, um, if he lives around here?” Her eyes opened wider, if that was possible.
“You’re looking for Jon?” She scanned her up and down, as if seeing her for the first time again. Sansa swallowed, hoping that the attention didn’t reveal her desperation. Clearly she knew him, but she seemed hesitant to share. Sansa knew it was strange. She wouldn’t give out someone else’s information to a stranger dressed like her. The woman checked her watch.
“Are you ready to order?” Sansa’s disappointment was clear to see. “Yes, yes of course, sorry.”
She was halfway through her food, and the clock showed it was quarter to 9, when the door opened and the rush of cold air startled her to look at the man entering.
He was barely the same person she grew up with, she thought. His curly dark hair was the same, sure, but longer than she remembered it and tied back, clear once he removed his tuque. He unwrapped the snow covered scarf from his neck and his black beard still managed to catch a few flakes that hadn’t melted. His eyes were the same, she thought, with a few more crows feet than she had ever known. He greeted a few tables as he walked in, slowly untangling himself from the warm layers that surrounded him. His boots were covered in snow, like he’d walked here. He disappeared into the back rooms and returned having traded his coat for an apron before settling in his place behind the bar. He greeted the few customers seated there and all of a sudden Sansa wondered if this had been a mistake, coming here. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him, this familiar stranger, just as much a ghost to her as her own father, and with the same cadence to his voice which carried all the way to her corner table.
The waitress came up next to him, whispered something in his ear, and he froze. His eyes went searching, scanning, then he saw her.
“…Sansa?”
He walked slowly towards her, ignoring everyone else in the room whose eyes were suddenly on them. She stood hesitantly. The relief she felt at seeing him walk in was nothing compared to the feeling of him hugging her now. She’d come here with nothing but a faint hope that he hadn’t moved, that he would remember her, that he would call her name. She clung to him like he was the last thing in the world holding her up, and she knew he felt the immensity of that burden already. She couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty for it.
“There was nowhere else to go, Jon. Nowhere else,” she had held back her tears the entire drive but could finally let them fall. He pulled back to look at her, really look at her this time, and suddenly there was the Jon she remembered. Or where his sad eyes just a reflection of her own?
“Gilly,” he called, “I’m really sorry but can you cover for me tonight? The snow’s keeping them away anyway.”
“Of course, Jon. You call Sam if you need anything. He’s watching little Sam but he’s home.”
“Thanks Gilly, I will.” To Sansa, still holding her, he rubbed a comforting hand on her back.
“Are you done eating? Do you have a place to stay?”
She broke away, quickly wiping her eyes. “I’m done. And…no. I, um, I didn’t think that far ahead.” He just nodded. He grabbed her coat from the chair and held it for her to put her arms inside.
“Just let me grab my stuff. Be right back.” Sansa zipped her coat, and started pulling out her cash. She didn’t remember how much anything cost, but figured she would rather leave a generous tip than a bad impression. Jon came out quickly, coat undone and scarf loose around his neck. He put his tuque over Sansa’s head and noticed the money she left behind. He grabbed it and shoved it back in her pocket before grabbing her arm and leading her outside. “Gilly, I’ve got her covered,” he said in passing. Gilly nodded and gave a last goodbye.
The door opened and instead of the warm hum of folk music and conversation there was only the howls and whistles of the long winter ahead. The biting cold pinched at her cheeks in ways she had long forgotten it could. She was glad for her turtleneck, though it was still colder than she remembered. Jon watched her scrunch her face and tied his scarf around her neck until only her eyes were visible. “Silly girl,” he muttered affectionately. “Don’t you remember? Winter is coming.” It’s what her father always told them before sending them back inside for warmer clothes. Jon’s tied hair whipped wildly around him and his breath was stolen from his lips as quickly as it formed. How beautiful, she thought, staring at his rosy cheeks.
“Did you drive here?” He asked, looking closely at the parked cars for the first time.
“Yeah,” she said, “just over there,” and pointed to her vehicle not far away.
“Can I drive you home? My home, that is. If you want. There’s a motel nearby if you’d prefer I drop you off there. It’s not much but it’s the best Castle Black has to offer I’m afraid.”
She fished the keys out of her pocket and offered them to him. “Take me home, Jon. I’d like to go home.”
He looked at her as if he was holding back a thousand questions. She wasn’t looking forward to answering them. In his conflicted expression there was mostly worry, but also something dreadfully hopeful. She wondered if he missed her like she had missed him. She never understood why he just left the way he did. As soon as he aged out of the foster system, he was gone. He still talked to Robb a bit, for awhile. That's how she knew where to find him. He missed the funeral, though. He knew about it, and he missed it. That wasn't like Jon at all, not the Jon she knew. 10 years had passed and he'd never reached out. She was grateful he was being this kind to her.
They got in the car without him commenting on the frenzied state of her backseat and he drove them deeper into town, until they were plunged into darkness again.
Jon’s face was covered in shadow and she could almost pretend she was a little girl again, sitting next to her father.
She leaned her head against the ice cold window and let herself drift closer to the frozen galaxy feeling for the first time in a long time that she could trust someone else to navigate the storm for a little while.