Sansa decided she would no longer fight her exhaustion, dusk had settled in, the blueish purple light was calming and soothing. She lay down on the bed but sleep won't come. She tossed and turned for hours before she finally managed to drift off. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when she woke up sobbing. With the blackout shades drawn the room was dark, she wasn't even sure what time it was. She heard a noise behind her and whirled around, someone stood in the doorway. She let out a scream and pushed off of the bed and cowered under the window.

"Sansa, Sansa it's only me!" Jon cried moving into the room and switching on the reading lamp. Sansa managed to stop screaming but she was breathing raggedly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I only came because I heard you crying. I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, his tone desperate. He didn't want to tell her he'd been sitting in the stairwell on and off for most of the night when he'd heard her cry out.

"Where's Arya?" She demanded.

He hesitated. "Where is she?" she demanded again, but this time her voice was full of fear.

"She's alright, she went in to town. She just left a little while ago."

"In the dark? What time is it?"

"Just after 7, the sun will be up in a bit." She seemed to consider this and then once she decided her sister was not in immediate danger she rose from the floor and she turned a cold gaze towards him. She seemed to be hardening herself against him.

"I told her I didn't want to see you."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons," she answered as she ran her fingers over her lip. He could see she was fighting back tears.

"I don't care about cuts and bruises, you're still beautiful."

"I'm not so vain. That's not why," she said quietly looking away from him.

"Then what? Tell me why, please."

She still won't look at him and she was wiping away any tear that managed to escape her eyes. She seemed frustrated that the tears would not stop. He suddenly had a terrible thought. She blamed him. When it happened he hadn't been so far away after all and yet he hadn't come for her. She must hate him, the sight of him likely reminded her how terribly he'd failed her. He wondered if he dropped to his knees now and begged her to forgive him if she would.

"This!" She suddenly cried breaking him from his thoughts. "I don't want you to see me like this! A pathetic sobbing mess. I have to be stronger than this. I know I can force myself for Arya's sake, but…. I don't think I can pretend for you too."

Sansa sat down on the bed then but she kept her back to him. She continued to sob quietly, batting away her tears angrily.

He didn't know what to do. He selfishly felt relieved that the reason for her distress was not him, but it hurt him just as much that she was still so upset. He slowly moved closer until he reached the window closest to her; he turned and waited for her to either throw him out or say something else. Her crying quieted after a bit and she finally looked up at him. Her face swollen and blotchy. "Do you want me to go?" he asked.

"No," she whispered, "I don't know what I want anymore. I know I made this decision, I know it was my choice, but right now I'm not even sure I want to live." She seemed shocked she had said the words aloud. "Please don't tell Arya I said that," she added quickly.

Her words were like a knife to his chest. He wanted to take her in his arms and draw all the pain and hurt from her, but he knew better than to even approach her right now, let alone touch her. Instead he stood rooted to the floor.

"Please don't say that," he pleaded. "You didn't have a choice."

She looked up at him shaking her head furiously, her mood seemed to have suddenly shifted. "What is it?" he asked.

"You won't understand."

"If you want… you don't have to, but I'm willing to listen, to try and understand if that's what you want." She looked at him hesitantly. "Or you can tell me to piss off," he added suddenly worried he was pushing her too hard. She owed him nothing after all.

She seemed to consider this. He noticed she had stopped crying, it gave him the tiniest glimmer of hope.

"I need this to have been my decision. I need to think that I have some control, because if I don't, well I don't really want to be somewhere if everything is beyond my control, beyond hope."

He looked at her, he did understand, probably more than she even realized. He had felt that hopeless feeling, of lacking control, in the early days at the orphanage. The feeling that things were happening to you and nothing you did mattered, it had nearly broken him. And while not as severe, he had felt something similar in the days immediately after his plane had crashed, when he had been shuffled around the island with no idea where or when he was going or with whom. He could understand why she would want to desperately believe she had some control in her life.

"I don't expect you to understand."

"But I do. I do understand. I didn't mean to try and take that from you."

"Do you remember the other day in the hayloft? When I told you about Petyr, how I refused his offer?" She asked.

"I do."

"You were so disgusted by it." She was looking away from him now. "Do you think what I did was wrong? Do you look at me and feel ashamed that I let that Nazi bastard….." She seemed desperate for answers and he wanted to relieve her pain.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," He interjected. "You made a choice to spare your sister. I wish to god you hadn't been forced into that position, I wish I hadn't left…... I'll never forgive myself for that. But what happened to you, it's appalling and disgusting, but that does not mean you are. Please don't feel that way, I don't feel that way. If anything when I look at you I see nothing but bravery and courage. I can't imagine making that choice."

She said nothing but he could see she was wiping away tears again. They sat in silence for what felt like an hours, Jon had at one point slid to the floor, his back against the wall; he sat facing her waiting on her to decide the next move. Finally she sighed and laid down on the bed staring up at the ceiling. It was clear she was exhausted.

"Should I let you rest?" he asked as he rose to his feet and took a couple steps towards the door.

"Can you stay with me?" she asked in a small voice. She didn't turn to face him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, her words halting him.

"I can't sleep. I keep having nightmares and I'm just so tired. Can you just lay with me, just for a bit?"

"If that's what you want I can do that," he said gently. He crossed to the bed and lay beside her, she turned on her side and he fit himself on his side along her back. He adjusted his arm under her head, the top of her head tucked under his chin. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes. Thank you," she murmured. Jon was almost certain she had barely finished the words before she had fallen asleep.

XXXXX

Arya hadn't slept well. Between her restless mind and Jon's constant movement on the stairway she wondered if she'd even gotten in 3 hours total. At one point she had wanted to scream at him but she knew why he was doing it, and honestly if he hadn't been she thought she might have. Sansa said she would be fine but Arya had heard her moving about the attic, the occasional sobbing; she knew Sansa would need more time to recover than she wanted to admit.

She finally had given up her quest for sleep and risen and dressed. She moved quietly into the hall and observed Jon dozing on the stairs, his chin propped on his arm, his elbow on his knees. It was rather endearing, and despite everything she found she had to stifle a laugh. She went downstairs and did her chores quickly before making her way back inside. She made a simple breakfast and ate it quickly. She wanted to get town early, she figured she was less likely to encounter Ramsay if she could be off the streets early enough. She was just about to walk out the front door when Jon came down the stairs.

"It's not even light out," he said clearly trying to suppress a yawn.

"I know but I couldn't sleep." She refrained from adding "because you've been pacing the stairs nearly all damn night."

"Me either."

They stood quietly for a moment. She knew he wanted to command her not to go and she was grateful he was restraining himself, she really had no desire to quarrel with him today.

"You'll be careful?"

She nodded. "I'll come home if it gets too much, I won't do anything stupid."

"Alright then."

Arya turned to go but then thought better of it and ran back and gave Jon a hug. He hugged her back and when he released her she turned quickly and went out the door before she could change her mind.

xxxxx

They town was quiet when she arrived. The sun was just starting to rise. For once there were few clouds, the pink and gold light actually made the place look cheery.

She parked her bike in the alley behind the butcher's and went in the back entrance, calling out for Molly and Michael. Molly came to her first, she appeared shocked to see her. She gave her a quick hug and then called to Michael that they were going upstairs for a bit.

"Arya dear, what are you doing here?" Molly asked once they were behind closed doors.

"I have some matters to attend to. Also can I stay with you tonight?"

"You are always welcomed, but…. Well don't you think you should be home with Sansa right now?" Arya knew by the look on Molly's face she knew. She cursed the major under her breath.

"Does everyone in this whole damn town know? It's barely been two days."

"I'm not sure if it's everyone but there are quite a few. It's a small town and there's not much to do anymore but gossip. I'm not saying it's right but it's the truth." Arya looked angry. "And even if people did mind their business, well, the major…"

"Won't shut up about it," Arya finished for her.

"You're family was well respected in this town once. Brynden did a lot for the resistance. I think he's decided it's almost propaganda worthy. If the niece of a key resistance figure, the granddaughter of Holster Tully can accept and accommodate his rule, well why can't the rest of us?"

Arya shuttered. He was absolutely mad, did he really think people would actually just go along with him if he could convince them Sansa Stark had accepted Nazi rule? He was more delusional then she had dared imagine, which also meant he was more dangerous as well.

"That's preposterous."

"On the surface yes, but I imagine he is laying the groundwork for something else."

"Do people believe him?" Arya's voice wavered.

Molly looked at her with pity but she knew she couldn't lie to her. "Some people do yes."

Arya bit back her tears. "They can go to hell then."

She thought back to her own trauma and how some people had judged her and Michael after Mycah's death. "Aye, that they can," she agreed.

"He attacked me first you know, he wanted to kill me; I saw it in his eyes. Sansa stopped him, but he only let me go because she said he could…."

Molly hugged her and let her cry. "Then you're truly blessed to have such a brave sister."

Xxxxxxx

Eventually Arya had calmed down, and once she composed herself she made her way to the doctor's. She let him know they had agreed to let Jon stay. He told her that was fine for now, especially since it was unlikely they could find him a new safe house at the moment anyways. They talked at length about who the mole might be. They came up empty. The only thing that was certain was that someone had either been compromised or had become desperate enough for something that they were willing to sell them out. Either way everyone was in agreement that for now operations were to go to ground.

He told her the Eleshams had essential vanished. It was anyone's guess but their best estimate was they were dead. Mrs Donniger and her two small children were currently under house arrest. They were considering this a victory, but there was still much concern about what their final sentence would be.

It was late morning when she finally departed his office. The sun was still shining but a cold wind had sprung up. Arya pulled her coat closed and started back to the butcher's. When she reached the door she said a quick prayer of thanks that for today she had managed to avoid Ramsay Bolton.