Despite the cold, he could smell it.

Fresh blood.

Theon opened his eyes to find himself out in a field of snow, strapped to the cross... again. He closed his eyes and whimpered.

"No, no..." he shook his head, "please, no."

"Reeeek."

The wind carried the taunting, disembodied voice of Ramsay from a nearby cluster of trees.

"Do you love me, Reek?"

Theon closed his eyes tighter. He was shaking all over as salty tears seeped out between his lids.

"Theon," he managed to sigh out. "It's... Theon!" His voice came out in a shaky, uncertain sob, yet he could almost feel a flicker of his strength somewhere inside of him. Sansa's words echoed in his thoughts. If he is to die, he should do so as Theon, not Reek.

Pushing his fear aside, he dared to open his eyes, about to scream out his name for everyone to hear, but the words died before they left his lips.

Staining the snow a sickly red, piled indelicately before him, was his skin.

He looked down at himself with terror sticken, wide eyes and screamed.

"Theon! Theon! Wake up Theon." someone shook his shoulder as he thrashed and kicked. "Theon! Shut up, someone will hear."

A hand clamped over his mouth and he sobbed into it, defeated. "Shut up," the voice whispered to him. "Open your eyes, Theon. You're dreaming."

It was Sansa's voice. He had to warn her! His eyes flew open to pitch darkness.

"He's here. Sansa, he's here," he mumbled into her hand.

"Shh. Shut up," her hand fell and he heard her crawl away from him.

He had been dreaming.

There was no cross. No snowy field. The smell of blood, replaced by the smell of horse shit.

His head fell back and he willed himself to still his trembling body.

"I don't see any torches anywhere," Sansa whispered from somewhere in the enclosed space. "You were too loud."

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out Sansa's form on the far end of the room, peeping out through a crack.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing so much. It's annoying."

He nodded, even though her back was to him.

"Can you try to walk? We need to leave."

He stirred and felt a crude pang on his leg. The pain travelled all the way up to his jaw and he remembered where they were... how Sansa took his hand, and they flew.

A cloud of snow dust engolfed them when they crashed on about 40 feet of snow. Sansa landed on his leg with a muffled unf.

For a few seconds they lay completely still, taking in the fact that they were alive.

Then instinct kicked in and they rose to their feet quickly and started towards the forest. Thrill pumped through every fiber in him and he had never felt as alive as he did in that moment.

Neither said a word until they were deep in the forest.

"You saved my life..." Sansa huffed out, sounding very unlike herself.

"Come," he took her hand with little hesitance and they were running again.

"Ramsay will have his hounds out as soon as he realizes we're missing. He will come across Miranda's body, or your empty chamber and he won't be pleased. He won't stop until he finds us."

"Where are you taking me. We need to head to the wall."

"There," he pointed to a distant stable.

They found the stalls empty but the floors were litered with shit. Sansa didn't hesitate to fall to her knees and dig her gloved fingers into the frozen mush once she realized what they needed to do. It took some effort, but they worked the feces hard into their clothes, hair and faces... the warmth of their bodies bringing out its awful stench... until they stood as two brown and stinking forms.

It was when they tried to leave, that Theon felt the fire in his leg. He took a few steps before he fell to the side with pain.

"What?"

"My leg "

"What about it?"

With the adrenaline gone, he felt the sharp, biting pain licking away the strength in his throbbing limb. He tried to stand again, but it was useless.

"I think it's broken."

They both fell silent at the distant sound of barking dogs, almost too low to hear.

His head snapped to her.

"Go."

She didn't move.

"Go! Leave me!"

Sansa rolled her eyes and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. With surprising strength, she pulled him to his feet, ignoring his hissing and moaning.

"Stand, Theon."

"I'll slow us down."

"Stand up, I said. Stop being so pathetic."

Her voice was cold and authoritative. It reminded him of Ned, and his heart ached.

While holding him up, she kicked a fence repeatedly until a short piece of timber fell loose. She tugged it free and shoved it into his hands, then maneuvered herself under his arm to support him.

"We need to hide."

He could only nod.

They found the shed deep in the woods. They sky had lost all light and the sound of barking dogs had died down the deeper they ran into the forest. Snow was falling harder now, and they almost missed the shed completely. Theon limped towards it and heaved it open.

The space behind the doors was cramped and small, but it would do. Sansa helped him hop inside before she hurried out to clear their foot prints in an anxious fit.

"The snow will take care of that."

Her eyes rose to look up at the heavy flakes that fell mercilessly.

"Come inside, Sansa."

She did.

"I don't know."

"We can't stay here."

"It's too cold to travel. We'll freeze to death before we get to the wall."

"We'll die if we stay here, within his reach."

"He might still be out there. Oh, I've been a fool. We must go back," Theon felt panic crawl up his throat. "If we apologize... if I ask him to punish me... Myranda was right, he needs you. You are Sansa Stark, rightful heir to Winterfell. The North belongs to you, he won't kill you. We should go back. We should..."

Sansa flung herself at him, catching his face with her hands like she had before.

"You listen to me! I am not going back. Do you understand me?" her breath was on his face and her grip on his face tightened. "We will go to the Wall. Jon is there. That place... it is our last hope. Going back to that monster isn't an option."

When she released him, he nodded miserably. The absence of her touch left the skin on his face colder than it already was.

He slid along the wall, resting his face against it. He must remember what had possessed him back in Winterfell. What drove him to swing Myranda over the rail? He needed to remember what it was like to be brave.

"There's that woman," Sansa said, more to herself than to Theon. "Should I have trusted her?"

"What woman?"

"Brienne of Tarth. She offered to protect me. I trusted him. I actually trusted him..." her thoughts trailed of and Theon felt too wretched to intrude. After a moment, she spoke again. "Last I saw of her was at an inn about a day's ride from here. It will probably..."

"Shhh."

Theon placed his hand on her ankle to still her.

They sat silent for over a minute before Sansa dared to speak.

"Did you hear something?" Her voice was the ghost of a whisper, so low Theon scarcely caught her words.

He strained his hearing, but there was no sound outside. Just the forest, sleeping.

"No."

Sansa sighed. "It will probably takes us two days to get there. Maybe three."

"It's a waste of time. Best spend it heading to the wall."

Sansa didn't answer, which he took as her agreeing.

"For now, I suggest you try to get some sleep. We can leave before dawn. Perhaps we'll come across a stray Baratheon horse."

Again, Sansa didn't answer. She simply slid to the other side of space, nestled against the wall with her back to him, and pulled her cloak over her shit crusted head.

Theon closed his eyes, but he didn't dare to sleep again. Not when he could be there.

So instead, he opted to sit vigilant as Sansa slept. Her even breathing sometimes hitched, and occasionally she stirred, but quickly she would resume a more peaceful sleep.

A few hours later, he woke her with a light tap on the shoulder. Her eyes flew open with a start, but he calmed her with, "It's Theon."

The doors were heavy with snow. They pushed out of the shed as quietly as they could manage and Theon thanked the gods that it was still snowing hard. His leg still burned, but he didn't mention it as he tried to stand straight with the aid of his walking stick.

They stared at the dark forest before them, then their eyes met. There was clear uncertainty in hers, but also great determination.

Without a word she grabbed his arm, threw it over her shoulder and propped him against her and with steady steps, the started North.

AN

Yes. I ship them.

I don't know how long this will be, but I hope it does not become a huge, monster fic.

Tiny side note about Hollow, to anyone who was reading that it: because of the finale, I have found inspiration to continue that story, so yes, I will finish it.

Please review and tell me what you think. I have no one to share my Theon/Sansa feels so talk to me.