Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: They meet each other again, a year after the fire that tore so many lives apart, in the waiting area of the small office, struggling to find some sort of semblance of peace. Sandor Clegane just wants to forget the memories of the flames. Sansa Stark just wants to forget the memories of her past. In between, the Elder Brother reminds them what it means to live.

A/N: This one is for bestrafemich21. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed/kudos'd/bookmarked/followed/favorited, shoutouts are at the bottom. Hope you all enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated and any mistakes are mine and mine alone!

Warning: this chapter does mention violence against women (Sansa). I just want you all to know, in case this is a trigger for anyone.

WARNINGS: AU, PTSD, very coarse language, violence, violence against women (memories), bullying, mentions of blood, killing, arson, intimidation, political stuff (though let's be real, it's a backdrop), past abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, self-esteem issues, healing, kissing, sex, there are others that I'm missing but I will add them when I remember them. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.


The lights weren't that bright (but our eyes were tired)

Part 2

But if you disappear you'll still hear when my heart hits the ground

Every touch, of every scene

Is just beautifully broken as, a bird without wings

All we have holding us back

Holding us back

Holding us back – Katie Herzig


She doesn't realize what's happening until she's on the floor. Her eyes widening, her mind racing, why did you open your mouth? Joffrey is wiping her blood off his ring and Sansa hesitantly and shakily brings her fingers to her lip, wincing at how it's already swelling and the pain that's radiating through her body. She stays on the ground, head bowed in a submissive manner, watches as her hand falls back to her side and she doesn't even realize she's clenching her fists until her nails dig into the palm of her hands.

It's not the first time he hits her. It's not the first time Blount or Trant hit her. (It's not the first time that Sandor Clegane, watches, his large hands clenching into tight fists and rage burning through his eyes. He doesn't do anything. Not in front of Joffrey and Sansa can't find it in her to resent him for his caution.)

"You're nothing but a stupid little bitch." Joffrey spits at her and Sansa flinches. "A little bitch that's going to die alone and scarred." He laughs loudly and looks towards the corner, where Sandor is standing, "look Dog, she'll match you scar for fucking scar."

At least I won't match you, Sansa thinks wildly. She stumbles into a sitting position and breathes deeply.

"You think I wouldn't find out?!" Joffrey screeches. "That you're talking about me behind my back? Do you honestly think I'm so stupid Sansa, that I wouldn't find out?"

Sansa should know by now to shut her mouth, but she stupidly, so stupidly, tells Margaery Tyrell that she appreciates Stannis Baratheon's views and his policies and his conviction. She stupidly, so stupidly, thought Margaery was her friend. And then her friend tells Joffrey. ("It was an accident." Margaery stutters, fear evident in her voice for Sansa, "it just blurted out, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Leave. Leave. Sansa, leave now. I'll meet you in-" Margaery never does finish her sentence, because Sansa is out the door the moment Margaery tells her she let it slip, only to come face to face with Joffrey and her tormentors. Her phone is ruined in the process, Margaery's insistent yells cutting off mid-sentence.)

She doesn't say anything. She refuses to say anything. She's tired of having to explain herself. She's tired of lying to herself and to everyone else. She's tired of apologizing for things she isn't even sorry for.

He was going to let her go, disgusted of looking at her, he lets it slip that he's planning on setting fire to Stannis Baratheon's house and all Sansa can think about is how Stannis Baratheon's daughter is Bran and Rickon's friend and how she's so young and smiles despite the scar marring her face. "No!" Sansa shrieks as she lashes out at Joffrey, slapping him and clawing at him. She doesn't realize what she's done until suddenly the wind is knocked out of her and she's on the floor, holding her stomach.

(She thinks this is death and instead of being terrified, instead of begging for one more day, one more chance, she welcomes it, like a long lost friend.)

"Enough." The voice is raspy and gruff and suddenly she feels a shadow standing between her and Blount and Trant. "Enough." He says this to Joffrey.

Miraculously, Joffrey rolls his eyes and waves his hand. "I've had my fill of her." He jeers at her. "You're damaged goods anyways." Sansa winces, partly from his words and partly from the death grip that Sandor has on her arm when he hauls her up and drags her through the house, reaching the front door and pushing her out of it. "You're free, little bird. You're free. Leave. Just leave before they clip your wings and kill you."

Sansa's throat feels dry and it aches and she looks at him and wonders idly, if her eyes are as hollow as her soul. "You should have let them kill me."

His face morphs into one of sadness and surprise but she takes the escape offered to her and limps to her car, fumbling with the keys as she turns it on, speeding through the streets, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, to keep from crying out with pain.

When she finally reaches her house, she stumbles out of the car and through the front door, crying out. Her mother races to the front entrance, takes one look at her and yells for her father. It's a storm of footfalls from there and through the chaos, she hears Rob and Jon rage, she hears Rickon cry, hears Arya curse, hears Bran's chair as he wheels in, she leans into her mother's shoulder and then she feels her father's strong hands cupping her face. "You need to stop them." She gasps out. "They're going to kill them."

The house falls silent. "Kill who? Sansa? Honey, what's happening? Who did this to you?"

"Joffrey." She says through gritted teeth, "he's going to set Stannis Baratheon's house on fire. He's going to kill them." She turns her head and looks at her younger brothers. "I tried to stop them…I don't…I can't…"

"It's fine." Her father says, gathering her into his chest. "It's fine."

She feels herself nod and then closes her eyes, body succumbing to the darkness while listening to her father's thunderous heartbeat.

"Sansa?" A voice whispers through her darkened room and Sansa's eyes fly open, adjusting to the darkness. She makes out the lithe form of her sister and she puts a hand to her chest, trying to steady her rapidly beating heart.

"What's wrong?" Sansa asks, her head turning around and glancing at her phone as the screen illuminates the time. It's a little past three in the morning. She yawns and looks expectantly at where her sister stands.

Arya shuffles her feet. "You were whimpering." She says after a few moments of silence.

Sansa shuffles onto the far end of the bed, lifts the covers and Arya dives underneath them, curling into the fetal position, facing her.

"Do you still dream about him?" Arya asks, her voice hardening at the last word.

"I don't think I'll ever stop."

She can feel the anger roll off of Arya. "I thought the sessions helped."

"They did." Sansa concedes. "And then I stopped and they came back." She lets out a bitter laugh and feels the telltale signs of tears stinging her eyes. "I can't even help myself. I'm weak." You're nothing but a pathetic, weak, little bitch. You're damaged goods. You're worthless.

"Stop it." Arya snaps. "You are not weak."

She and her sister have a complex relationship. Even though they don't get along half the time, they're extremely protective of each other and sometimes; Sansa doesn't know how she would have survived the past year without her sister. Sansa reaches out and grabs her hand, squeezing it tightly, the thank you, unsaid but lingering between them.

Arya shifts and lies on her back, "will you promise me something?"

After everything her younger sister has done for her, Sansa thinks she would promise her the sun and the moon and the stars. "Anything."

"Go back to counseling. Get some help. I don't…I mean…" she huffs and breathes out, blow a raspberry, "I hate seeing you like this. I want…I need my big sister back. Please."

If I wasn't crying before, I'm crying now. Sansa nods through her tears, sniffling and wiping her face with her other hand. She said please; Arya never says please. "I promise." Sansa says softly.

They lapse into silence, allowing sleeping to overcome them, their clasped hands, in the space between them.


"Sansa, can you hand me the frozen peas from the freezer?" Her mother calls out from her spot near the sink.

Sansa nods, even though her mother can't see her and opens the freezer, shivering when the cold air hits her body. She reaches in, grabs the bag of peas and her heart quickens staring at it.

It's not the same bag. She knows it's not, but she can't help but stare at it.

"Here." He says to her gruffly. "It's better than ice."

She takes the offered bag of peas and presses it to her ribs gently, jolting when the coldness touches her skin. "Thank you sir." She says quietly.

"I'm no fucking sir, girl."

And I'm not a girl. Not anymore, she thinks sadly. She doesn't say anything to him. Just nods and prays that Joffrey doesn't waltz through the doors.

"Sansa?" Her mother's voice pulls her out of her memory and when Sansa turns around, she notices her mother staring at her worriedly. "Darling, are you alright?"

"Fine." She says quickly. At her mother's look, Sansa's shoulders drop and she pushes the freezer door shut with her hip, placing the bag on the counter in front of her mother. "Just got lost in my thoughts." She forces a smile and shrugs. "It's no big deal."

Her mother nods, "are you nervous about seeing the Elder Brother again?"

"Who is he?" Sansa asks her father, her voice hitching.

"It's alright Sansa." Her father says to her calmly. "He's a family friend. He's…he's dealt with situations like this before."

"You mean girls like me."

Her father closes his eyes, as if struck and he lets out a breath. "He's a good man. He…he helped me when Lyanna died."

Sansa nods hesitantly. "Okay."

(True enough, the Elder Brother is an older man, one who she thinks resembles a grandfather, she sinks into the leather couch and doesn't say anything. She just sobs and he lets her.)

"No." Sansa replies truthfully. "I think it'll be a good thing. For me, I mean."

Her mother smiles slightly, eyes softening and she comes around, her arms outstretched and hugs her, her hands cradling the back of Sansa's head and Sansa sighs, leaning into her mother's embrace and breathing in her familiar scent. "I love you." Her mother breathes into her hair.

"I love you too." Sansa mumbles softly into her mother's shoulder.


The sun is shining brilliantly, when she parks her car near a coffee shop and walks the rest of the way to her appointment. It's not far, just a five-minute walk, but in the heat, it feels more like twenty. She concentrates on making her way to the building, dodging people and apologizing when she bumps into an older woman carrying a briefcase and talking into her phone. The woman shrugs her off and continues walking and Sansa shakes her head and quickens her pace, eager to get out of the sun and the oppressive mass of bodies that make her feel like she's being swallowed whole.

She lets out a breath when she enters the air-conditioned, slightly worn down building and takes her sunglasses off her face, eyes squinting against the sudden shift in light and she tosses her sunglasses in their case and throws them back into her bag.

She walks up the two flights of stairs, down a hallway and stands in front of a familiar door, memories of the last time she was here overwhelming her. She doesn't realize she's held in her breath until she suddenly exhales, coughing up air. She presses her hands in the valley between her breasts and massages her chest, trying to ease her anxiety and pain. Her hand is shaking when she puts it on the doorknob and turns it, pushing the door open and closing it quietly.

"Hi." She says to the receptionist (she's young and new and Sansa vaguely remembers the other receptionist and her bulging stomach and Sansa wonders if she gave birth yet), her voice bright and so very fake to her ears, "I'm here to see-"

"Sansa Stark?" The receptionist interrupts her, not unkindly, her brown eyes twinkling as she gives her a wan smile. "Elder Brother is with a client right now, but just take a seat."

"Thank you." Sansa says primly and takes a seat in the corner, crossing her legs at her ankles and leaning against the wall for support.

It looks the same, she realizes, she recognizes the numerous books lining the shelves. She recognizes the old wooden table in the middle. She recognizes the same paintings by artists long dead and gone and Sansa squints at them, trying to put her art history class to good use. But most of all, Sansa recognizes the smell; a vague scent of incense followed by sandalwood. She breathes it in deeply and recalls being a child and being forced to go to Church on Sundays. Mostly though, she remembers breaking out into giggles with Arya as Robb, Jon whisper and pull faces at one another.

She doesn't realize she's closed her eyes until she opens them at the sound of a door opening.

Her breath catches in her throat as she stares at the intimidating figure looming in the doorway, frozen in place when his eyes land on her.

She considers it odd (or maybe it's a sign of her growing up) that her first glance isn't to the scars that mar half his face. No, instead, she lands on his eyes, his gray eyes, swirling with recognition and remorse, maybe even a little bit of guilt. Without her knowledge, her hands plant themselves in her lap and she wrings them together until her bones hurt and she gnaws at her bottom lip out of habit.

"Thank you, sir."

"I'm no fucking sir, little bird."

(He's crudest man she has ever met but she finds he's also one of gentlest. At least with her. Always with her. The only bruise he ever gave her was in his haste to get her to leave, leave and never come back. You're free, little bird.)

"I'll be with you in a moment, Sansa." The Elder Brother says, leaning around Sandor Celgane's body.

She gives him a smile, "That's all right, I can wait."

It's as if the sound of her voice unfreezes him and he walks towards the receptionist stiffly, his back to her.

Sansa continues to bite at her lip and stares at his back. She can see the muscle tense underneath his shirt and she takes in his attire. His jeans are dusty and dirty, his shoes large and in the same state, his shirt sticking to his body, matted in dry sweat. He seems so much bigger than she remembers him and she's almost giddy when she realizes that she isn't afraid of him. (She's never been afraid him, not really.)

(She wonders what he's doing here and then she wonders if Joffrey broke him like he broke her.)

Sansa loves her family. Truly, she does and she honestly believes that without them, she wouldn't have survived this past year but despite everything, despite their constant support and despite their patience, she can see their frustration in regards to her actions. She knows they love her, she knows they would do anything for her but she also knows that they don't understand her. That they can never understand her and what she's been through.

But he does. He's always understood.

She can see him get ready to leave, his hand on the doorknob and it's barely a second when she catapults out of her seat and places her hand on his bicep (she feels him tense and clench his muscles and she can feel them jump at her touch.) She can see from her peripheral vision, the receptionist, staring at them with unrepentant curiosity and interest.

Maybe it's because he's never actually hurt her. Maybe it's because he's never lied to her. Maybe because when she was being beaten and insulted and made to feel worthless, she would feel compelled to look at him, look at his eyes, at his grey eyes swirling with remorse, maybe even a little guilt, an incredible amount of rage and suddenly, she could take the beatings and the insults because he would ground her. And maybe it's because there is a sort of desperation twisting inside of her to be near someone who gets it that she keep her hand on him, trying to transfer some of his strength to her. It is desperation, she thinks, because she's scared of him leaving and her never seeing him again, because she left once and he stayed and she thinks that has to mean something. Even though he's her connection to a life she would rather forget, he's the only part of that life that made her feel safe.

It's in that moment she commands him (she's past the point of asking), in a soft voice, "stay." And then after a moment, she adds, "please."

She can see the war dancing behind his eyes and she sees the way his jaw ticks but he sighs and relents, "okay."

"Sansa." The Elder Brother calls out gently. "Are you ready."

"Yes." She says. "I'm ready." (She speaks to the Elder Brother but her eyes never leave Sandor's.)


"I didn't know Sandor Clegane came to see you." Sansa says as soon as she takes a seat on the leather couch. The seat underneath her warm is and Sansa sinks into the couch, inhaling the familiar scent of him.

The Elder Brother looks at her over his glasses. "You know I'm not allowed to talk about my other clients, Sansa."

Sansa winces and mentally slaps her forehead. "I know." She blurts out. "I didn't…that's not what I meant."

The Elder Brother gives her a small grin. "Sansa," he says, his voice suddenly serious and he leans forward, eyes never leaving hers. "Are you okay?"

Sansa can feel her face drop and she can feel her shoulders slump. "I keep on having these dreams, memories really. He…He haunts me…." She confesses everything to the Elder Brother and he listens, nodding and interjecting in between.

Before she knows it, her eyes are swollen and raw, her throat aching and her time almost up. She leans back into the couch, trying to immerse herself in the deteriorating scent of Sandor.

"He was there, wasn't he?" The Elder Brother hesitantly asks, his voice soft but strong. It's posed as a question but Sansa knows he knows the answer.

She doesn't even have to ask whom he's referring to. Instead, she nods, hair falling into her face. "He was always there."

"Does he scare you?"

"He used to." Sansa admits, wiping at her face with the rough fabric of her jean jacket.

"But not anymore?"

She clenches the leather beneath her and she shakes her head vigorously. "No." She says. "No. He…he…helped me. Saved me even."

(Sandor Clegane set Sansa Stark free and the tragic thing in all of this is that she never recognized it until she was hundreds of miles away and she never even got to thank him. Not really.)


Her heart is pounding when she steps back into the waiting room and then it falls to the pit of her stomach when she sees it empty, save for an unnamed man occupying one of the chairs.

The receptionist looks up and her eyes soften into a form of pity as she stares at her. Sansa clears her throat, turns her head around and thanks the Elder Brother (she can see his eyes wander around the bare waiting room and is it just me or did he just frown? Disappointment stretches across his face until it disappears and Sansa is left believing she just imagined it.) She books another appointment, the receptionist gently forcing next Wednesday on her and Sansa absentmindedly takes it, thanking her and wishing her well.

She walks out the room, closing the door behind her and closes her eyes, leaning against the wood, struggling to focus on breathing.

"Stay. Please."

"Okay."

It's not like she blames him for leaving. She's part of his past that she's sure he would rather forget. She doesn't even think he knows he's the part of her past she only ever wants to remember.

She opens her eyes and staggers back, biting back a rare curse as she sees a looming figure across from her.

He's leaning against the wall, one foot propped against it. His eyes are glued to her, roaming over her face and body, as if memorizing her.

She feels something in her explode and her fingers twitch against her legs. "You stayed."

"You asked."

She nods; her throat suddenly feeling dry and her mind becomes a jumbled mess of things she wants to say. "Do you want to grab a cup of coffee?" She blurts out. Oh God. She feels mortified by the volume of her voice. She can feel her face flush and she continues to lean back against the door, hoping it will just swallow her and save her from the embarrassment.

She hears a slight guffaw and when she looks up, she sees his shoulders shaking with silent amusement. "The little bird wants to grab a cup of coffee with the Hound, is that it?" He reiterates and there is something dark, something bitter, almost sad, lacing his voice.

Sansa grows irritated, "you are not a Hound." She snaps and then she collects herself and refuses to acknowledge how her heart beats faster when she sees the small look of surprise and maybe even pride, flit across his face. "And yes. I want to get some coffee. With you. That is…I mean…if you would like to." Jesus. She can't do anything right, can she?

"Sure." He says, running a hand over his face, his body slumping in defeat. "Okay."

"Okay." Sansa repeats and then she pushes herself away from the door and they silently walk down the hallway, down the flight of stairs and to the front door of the building. Her hand is on the handle when she stops, eyes adjusting to the sun and the mass of people still walking to their destination. She can feel the heat of his body behind her and she can feel the ghost of his fingertips against her back. She pushes the door open and walks into the crowd, Sandor Clegane walking next to her.

(You're free, little bird. You're free.)


Part two is complete! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Seriously, you're response means a lot to me and I'm just thankful that you guys seem to like this!

HUGE SHOUTOUT:Guest, LunarSinner, Bluesands, mermaidsahoy and everyone who has favorited/kudos'd/bookmarked/followed, it means so much to me! Seriously thank you all so much! I apologize if I missed anyone!

Again, any mistakes are mine and mine alone. I apologize if they offend anyone.

MAD LOVE AND RESPECT,

BB