Darkness was consuming her. Her throat was raw and her lungs burned from the lack of air. If he didn't let up soon she was going to pass into unconsciousness, but then perhaps that was preferable to feeling what he was about to do to her. She heard her shirt rip over the litany of foul curses he was hissing at her. She felt the cold air hit her flesh. Tears forced their way out of the eyes that she had screwed tightly shut. And then suddenly his weight shifted back, his arm moved from her neck, pinning her instead by her shoulders. He seemed to still. She gasped for air, the sound filling her ears, and her mind pulled back from the darkness.

"Who's there?" he called out. He actually sounded alarmed and it made her open her eyes. She found the barn had plunged into near darkness. The headlights had been shut off and the lantern in the cows' stall cast minimal light.

They waited but there was no answer. She dared to turn her head to look towards the front door, the one that opened into the yard. They both now stared into the darkness. For a moment she considered calling out for help, but it seemed as if he read her thoughts. He tightened his grip on her shoulders, fingers digging into her flesh. A painful reminder that she was beyond salvation.

After several long moments he seemed satisfied they were alone and he shifted his focus back to her. Leering at her, he leaned back over her to resume his assault. And then she heard it, coming from the back of the barn, the sound of someone running into the barn.

Ramsay let out an angry cry as he flew off her. She hadn't clearly seen him, but she knew it in her heart, it was Jon; he had come back. He had tackled Ramsay off her and they were now rolling in the hay, swinging and striking at each other, a whirl of fists and limbs. Sansa couldn't control herself before she sobbed out Jon's name one despondent time.

Ramsay had been on top but Jon had managed to throw him off. The men, now broken apart, quickly scrambled to their feet. They faced each other and began circling, regarding each other, looking for weaknesses.

Ramsay spoke first, his comment directed at Sansa but his focus on Jon. "Sansa darling, I must say, you are certainly full of revelations." Jon grunted in displeasure at his words, drawing Ramsay's full attention back to him.

Ramsay studied him hard for several long moments before he finally spoke. "Jon is it? I don't believe I've had the pleasure previously," he stated wiping blood from his mouth. "Which begs the question then, just exactly who the fuck are you? Why are you on my goddamn island?" Sansa noticed then that his hand was fumbling around his side. She understood then that Ramsay no longer had his gun, she glanced around but in the darkness she couldn't see it anywhere near her.

"I'm the man that has been waiting to kill you. I'm the man that is going to kill you."

"Then I'm afraid you are a man that is going to be so disappointed," Ramsay laughed. Jon said nothing, but he narrowed his eyes and pulled his knife. He held it low and by his side. Ramsay scoffed and then pulled his as well. They continued to circle each other slowly and deliberately.

"I hadn't imagine you'd be so bold. I long wondered why you wanted to stay out here, I often suspected you were up to something, you and that cunt of a sister. There were rumors of course, but I clearly underestimated you. I frequently wondered if I should have forced you off this forsaken shit stain." He was speaking to Sansa again but he never took his eyes off Jon. "This is a valuable lesson for me, both on your capabilities and the foolishness of mercy."

Sansa felt mired to the floor, her head was pounding again, her vision momentarily blurring. She tried to draw as much air into her lungs as she could, to clear her head, so she might be able to help Jon. She knew she would need to do something, but for the moment she was unable. Jon for his part was trying to focus on Ramsay but he did manage to spare her the briefest of glances. Ramsay took note and he smirked, amused with what he saw before him.

"This is all rather interesting don't you think?" Ramsay asked.

Jon only gave a displeased grunt in response. He did not want to engage in conversation with this man, or say anything that might give him more ammunition to harm him or Sansa.

"I'll take that as you disagree, but you see Jon, we aren't so different."

Jon's eyes went wide and he scoffed in disbelief and was unable to hold his tongue. "We are nothing alike."

"But we are. You love her, I can tell. Its why you wish me dead," he said his cold smile growing larger. "But you see, I love her too." Sansa choked at his proclamation, but he seemed to not hear her. "I wonder, how long have you been here exactly? How long have you been cowering and hiding? Were you here when she was still a virgin? Were you here when I fucked her? Could you hear it? Did you wish it was you?"

"Stop talking!" Jon shouted and stepped towards Ramsay. He slashed at him with his knife but missed. Ramsay smiled wider at that.

"What kind of man hides when another takes his woman?"

"Stop it! Shut up Ramsay!" Sansa screamed, "Shut up!"

It seemed he had been so distracted by taunting Jon he had nearly forgotten she was there. Her shouts caused him to look towards her for just a moment and Jon saw his opening and charged him. Ramsay let out a howl. They rolled to the ground, a tangle of limbs again. There was screaming and shouting, sometimes Sansa couldn't even tell who was making what sounds.

They flipped over and over. The sounds of ribs breaking, fists cracking bone and bruising flesh, screams of pain and wild growls filled the air. Who was making what sound became indistinguishable as the violence increased. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jon emerged on top. His knife was gone but he was striking Ramsay, blows raining down and turning his face to a bloodied pulp. To Sansa's shock she almost swore Ramsay was smiling.

She forced herself to her feet and managed to retrieve Brynden's gun from the hiding place in the stall. The feel of it in her hand seemed to give her a renewed strength and finally cleared her head. She walked over to them holding the gun in front of her. Jon slowed his punches and looked at her. She stood right next to them and Jon stopped hitting him, he pushed back and stood next to her. Jon could see her hand was shaking as she stared down at Ramsay's bloodied and battered face.

"You don't have to," Jon said reaching for the gun. He didn't want her to carry the burden of taking a life, even if it was justified.

"Yes, I do," she responded, her eyes still trained on Ramsay. She seemed determined. Her hand had stopped shaking and so Jon let his hand fall away. Ramsay burbled on his blood and seemed to smile at her with broken teeth and blood stained lips. She aimed the gun at his face and he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form a single word she pulled the trigger.

Blood, brain matter and bone sprayed everywhere as his face collapsed in. Sansa dropped the gun immediately, staggered back and fell to her knees, vomiting into the hay until her stomach was empty. Jon knelt beside her, holding her hair back and gently rubbing her back.

When she was finally able she look up. She found herself staring into Jon's grey eyes. They were a storm of pain and concern that threatened to swallow her. She forced her focus outward and took in his entire appearance. He was covered in hay, dirt and blood; he was sweating and in the dim light seemed extremely pale. She then looked beyond him for a moment, three bodies lay in the barn now, blood soaking into everything. How would they clean this up? Explain it? How would they escape this unharmed? Her mind reeled with a thousand questions. If she hadn't already emptied her stomach she surely would have now.

Jon helped her to her feet and held her by her shoulders, his face deeply serious. "You need to go. You need to get to the beach, find the smuggler and have him take you to England," Jon told her.

She focused back on him again. His words were not making sense. "I need to go?" she responded, her tone confirming her confusion. "You mean we, right?"

"Sansa….." he groaned and sank to his knees clutching his side. She grabbed at him and pulled his hands away, the palms were covered in fresh blood.

"You, it's only going to be you," he breathed and then collapsed to the ground.

She fell to her knees and pulled his shirt up, there were several stab wounds in his flank, she rolled him and saw two in his back right above his kidney; they were bleeding the hardest of all the wounds. She let out a sob.

He rolled back and clutched her hands and demanded she look at him. "Listen, there is no other way. They will come looking for Ramsay, for Petyr, and when they find them you'll be dead anyways. This is the only way. No one will know what happened, but if there are four bodies you can protect everyone."

She pulled her hands away. "What? What do you mean four bodies?"

"The island commander is dead, if they think anyone on the island is responsible they'll be reprisals, but if they think you all died in a fire, by accident, they might be spared."

"I don't -, what are you saying?" She was starting to feel hysteria rising in her chest.

"I'm saying you are going to light the barn on fire, the hay will burn the bodies before anyone can make it out here and identify them. They'll find four skeletons, Arya, Petyr, Ramsay and you, but it'll be me, I make the fourth body. Ramsay and Petyr are hated, they won't investigate too hard; everyone will be safe. But you have to go, you have to go to the beach and get on the boat." He was growing paler, his breathing more labored.

"No! No! I'm not going! You can't make me go!"

"There's nothing left here Sansa!" he shouted with such force that she was certain there was no way he could be dying. As if he could read her thoughts he reached up and took her face between his hands, mixing his blood with Petyr's. He forced her to look into his eyes. "Listen to me, I'm going to die here. You need to leave. When you get to the beach they'll ask you who you are meeting, you must answer No One."

"No!"

He released her face and reached in his pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope, his fingertips transferring blood to its white surface. "If you must, show them this, tell them its important intelligence that you need to get to Samwell Tarly. Only let Sam open this."

"What is it?"

"It doesn't matter, but you must insist that they take you so this can get to Sam. You need to hurry or you might not make it." His hands shook as he held the envelope.

She took the envelope and she held it and sobbed. He reached up and pushed her hair back, more of his blood transferring on to her face. "I have loved you more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. You made me belong, you gave me a family. Please. Please, do this for me."

Sansa continued to sob and shake her head. "We are still a family. I want to stay with you and Arya. I have to take care of you both."

"I'll take care of Arya, but you can't stay. That isn't what we want for you. You don't belong here with us, not now. We need you to go. Can you do that?"

"I don't know, I don't know. I'm not strong enough."

"You can, you will. You are strong enough, you are the strongest woman I've ever known."

"I'm not leaving. I can't! I won't!"

"You have to." He started coughing, blood filling his mouth, he spat it out. "Listen to me, there is no time, you have to do this. Are you listening? You have to answer 'no one'."

"I can't do it alone, come with me, please. You'll be ok, just come with me."

"No Sansa, no I'm not, I wish you were right, but this is it. You have to do this, light the fire and go. You have to survive this, I can't die thinking it was all for nothing."

She sobbed, she screamed, and then finally she nodded in agreement. "I love you," she sobbed.

"I love you too," he breathed. Despite his attempt to protest she lay down beside him. She held him until his breathing became slow and shallow and he finally slipped in unconsciousness. She place a kiss on his temple and released him. She ran into the house, she knew she couldn't head to the coast covered in so much blood. She tore off her clothes and cleaned off the remaining blood. She pulled on new clothes, shoved the envelope in her satchel, and gathered up all the clothes and towels with blood on them.

She raced back to the barn and tossed the clothes into the hay near Petyr. She grabbed the lantern from the cows' stall, leaving the gate open so they could escape.

She carefully knelt by Arya so that no further blood would get on her and took her hand. "Please forgive me little sister…. I'll do my best to be brave, just like you said," she whispered and then kissed her forehead gently.

She made her way back to Jon. He was no longer breathing and she knew by the searing pain in her heart he was gone. She knelt beside him and pushed back his curls and kissed him one final time on the lips, her tears raining down on his face. She finally stood and gripped the lantern. Once she was clear of the hay she flung it to the ground and watched it shatter, fire instantly exploding into the hay. She watched for a few moments as the flames raced towards the bodies. But before the fire reached them she turned and ran. She knew she couldn't bear to watch the flames consume her family, her future; everything she loved. And even if she could have, she didn't have the time. It was two miles to the beach and it was getting late. She found the old cattle trail and plunged into the woods. She glanced over her shoulder once and could see the fire had engulfed the barn, tall flames shooting into the night sky.

She had been running for nearly twenty minutes and could hear the ocean now. Her legs and lungs burned but she had not slowed. She burst from the tree line on to the beach, tripping in the sand. She looked at her watch, 10:56. She searched for any sign of the boat that would be her salvation. Her eyes swept over the horizon and then she saw something a little ways down the beach to her right, to an area where the trees nearly met the water. She rose and approached with caution.

She was almost near the boat when a bright light blinded her and a voice called out. "Stop right there! Who are you looking for girl?"

She thought of Arya's words again, to be brave. She took a deep breath and called back loudly and clearly, "No One!"