If summer's end hadn't been clear before, it was now. The far north somehow managed to be even colder than nearly a year previous, though perhaps Caitie was only more perceptible to it in her weakened state. Hunger gnawed at her belly, exhaustion became more prominent every day, and she could barely move her wrists any longer without searing pain. Each morning, she woke up terrified that the rot would set it, and she'd end up either dying from it or losing her hands.

It hadn't so far. The wounds were still painful, and by the deep red color, she knew there would be scars, but that was a relief at this point—just scars.

Of course, even that victory felt empty. Jon was dead. And Caitie didn't know if Sam, Gilly, and the baby were alive, if her brothers were alive, or if she would live long enough to get home.

So, when the Wall finally came into sight, Caitie should have been overjoyed. But anxiety had taken hold over her in the last few days, and she had no excitement or relief being so close to home. Instead, she looked around worriedly through the Haunted Forest. Grenn and Edd were still hobbling along in front of her, but Caitie stood rooted to the spot.

"What're you looking for?" Grenn asked, turning back.

"Ghost." Caitie shook her head. "He should have found us by now. Something's wrong."

"You don't think the mutineers caught him, do you?"

"That's my worry." She gulped, the image flashing through her mind. "But Gods, I hope not."

"He could've gone back to Castle Black."

"I don't think so. He would have come looking for me before returning there." Caitie barely managed to hold back a sob as she imagined what the mutineers would do to Ghost once they captured him. "I need to go back to the keep and look for him."

She turned around and started to hobble away back towards Craster's.

"What?" Grenn asked sharply. He grabbed her arm to keep her from moving any further.

"Let me go."

"No."

"Seven Hells, I can't leave him there. They'll torture him or kill him or—"

"Going back is the stupidest thing you've ever suggested," Edd interrupted.

Caitie wrenched her arm away from Grenn's grasp and turned her glare towards Edd. "I'm not going to abandon him. I'm not."

"You don't even know for sure if Ghost's there."

Caitie felt tears springs to her eyes. She blinked them away, hurriedly, trying to hide it from her friends. "Damn it," she said, "Jon sent Ghost back for me—he entrusted him to me. I can't leave him behind."

There was a sigh from Grenn as he saw her distress. "Come here." His arms wrapped around her, and he laid his chin on the top of her head.

The stress of the last few weeks finally caught up with her. Caitie crumbled into him at the contact. "I'm sick of not being able to do anything," she cried into his chest. "I feel so powerless all the time. I can't help the people I love, and I hate it!"

"Way I see it," Edd said behind them, "you're just looking to die."

"Maybe I am," she snapped back. "So what? What's the point of living if everyone I care about is dead?"

Jon's face sprung to mind. Then her mother's, and Ghost's, and, surprisingly, even Lord Commander Mormont's.

"You don't mean that," Grenn said.

"I do. I really, really do."

"But everyone you care about isn't dead." He hesitated and then continued quietly. "I'm not."

"And you'd better stay that way," she muttered.

Deep down, Caitie knew he was right, and not only was Grenn alive, but Edd was alive, and Owen and Cerys, too—at least she hoped they were. Caitie had lost people, but she wasn't alone.

Still, knowing that didn't help her feel any better.

"I plan on it," he said, chuckling. "But, look, if we get back to Castle Black, we can get them to send a party to kill the mutineers and free Ghost. But we won't make it out here much longer."

"I suppose," she murmured. "It's just so hard to walk away."

"I know it is for you. But you can't help him now, and I don't want you to die. So please come with us."

It made her feel like the worst person in the world, but Caitie nodded. And when Grenn threw her a tired but relieved smile, she knew she'd made the right choice.

Grenn had been correct; Caitie would never have made it back to the keep. In fact, by the time they reached the gate of Castle Black a day later, the three of them were so weak they could barely stand.

As they approached, Caitie heard the horn blast, and she knew the Night's Watch had seen her and her friends. The gate opened, followed by four brothers rushing out to greet them.

She'd been expecting that. What Caitie hadn't been expecting was a familiar set of brown eyes looking down at her as the man they belonged to hoisted her up.

"You're alive!" she exclaimed.

And then she burst into tears.

"It's good to see you, too," Jon replied quietly, smiling. He had a fresh set of scars, and his eyes were tougher—more battle-weary—but he was alive and well and looking about as happy to see her as she was to see him.

"I…" she trailed off, sniffling. She didn't know what to say or ask first. There were just so many questions. How was he alive? How had he made it back to the Wall? Where had he been for all these months? And if he was here, did that mean Ghost was, too?

"I thought you'd have blue eyes by now," Edd said as he was helped through the gate by a different brother. That seemed to sum up Caitie's thoughts well enough for the moment.

She clung to Jon as he helped her hobble into the courtyard. He guided her to sit, and she squeezed herself between Edd and Grenn, shivering.

"What took you so long?" Ser Alliser Thorne asked shortly—as if they were late for supper and nothing more.

"We were held up," Grenn answered for them.

"By what?"

He held up his hand, showing everyone the ring of blood around his wrist. "Chains."

"We were guests of the mutineers at Craster's Keep," Edd said.

"And the mutineers stayed?" Jon sounded almost frantic, bending down to their eye level.

Grenn nodded. "They're not going anywhere. They've got Craster's food and his wives."

At the mention of Craster's daughters, Jon glanced at Caitie anxiously. Understanding the unspoken question immediately, she shook her head and smiled, trying to convey to him that his worries were unfounded.

"Poor girls." Edd's teeth were chattering so hard he could barely get out the rest of the snarky comment. "Never thought they'd miss their daddy."

It said quite a lot about how exhausted Caitie felt that she didn't reprimand him.

"Karl's running things now," Grenn said. "He's the one who put a knife in Craster's throat."

"We need to ride north and kill them all."

"We just went over this boy," Thorne spat at Jon. "Justice can wait."

Well, it seemed as if their time away hadn't made the master-at-arms any less of a cranky old bastard.

"It's not about justice! I told the Wildlings we had over a thousand men at Castle Black alone."

Caitie stared at her best friend. So that's where he had been—how he'd survived. Jon had been living with the Wildlings. The new information left her with more questions than answers.

"Karl and the others know the truth as well as we do. How long do you think they'll keep that information to themselves when the Wildlings are peeling their fingernails off? Mance has all he needs to crush us; he just doesn't know it yet." Jon turned back to the rest of the men and raised his voice. "As soon as he gets his hands on them, he will. And then he'll throw his full strength at us. And even if every one of us kills a hundred Wildlings, there's still not a thing we can do to stop them!"

Caitie had never heard Jon sound so sure of himself—so… mature. It only made her more curious about what had happened to him.

No one said a word for a long moment as they took in his speech. She used the distraction to wipe her eyes and calm her emotions.

Finally, Pyp, who had perched himself next to Grenn, said, "I don't think I can kill a hundred Wildlings."

The silence in the courtyard loomed over everyone as they took in the significance of the threat.

Then, after what felt like years, Caitie broke it.

"Well," she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering, "as much as I'd love to debate our survival odds against a horde of angry Wildlings, I could really use some food and bandages, first."

Everyone looked at her, some amused, some not.

Thorne growled, "Green boys. That's all you are." Nevertheless, he nodded to Jon and a few others and ordered, "Take them to Maester Aemon."

Jon didn't leave her side the whole way to the maester's chambers. He refused to allow any of the other brothers to help him support her weight—even Pyp—and he kept glancing at her nervously—why, Caitie didn't know.

The two of them stayed at the back of the group, mainly because he had a more difficult time propping her up on his own. Caitie didn't exactly mind, but she wished he could go faster. Her stomach was eating itself—or at least that's how it felt—and her wrists were throbbing. The sooner they got to Maester Aemon, the sooner all of this could be over.

Desperately needing a distraction, Caitie very nearly asked if Ghost was there. But not a second after the thought occurred did she decide against it. If he weren't at Castle Black, she didn't want to remind Jon. It had been his direwolf, after all.

Instead, Caitie asked softly, "Where's Sam?"

"Don't worry; he's here. He'll be waiting with Maester Aemon." Jon paused, and his lips quirked up slightly. "And he brought a friend."

She beamed. "Really?"

"Aye." He lowered his voice. "And her son. He… says he killed a White Walker on their way here."

"Seven Hells." Caitie laughed, adding yet another thing to her list of questions. "We have a lot to discuss."

Jon was silent for a minute as they ambled down the hall, frowning deeply as if considering something. Then the frown disappeared, and he changed the subject. "You all right?"

"My wrists hurt like hell, and I'm starving. And cold. And tired. Did I mention starving?"

"That isn't what I meant."

Before Caitie could give him the answer he desired, she heard a gasp.

"Gods be good!" Sam exclaimed from the end of the hall. "You're here!" He rushed over to them—giving Grenn and Edd smiles and nods as he went—and helped Jon prop her up.

"I thought you might be…" Sam trailed off, unable to say it.

"Dead?" Caitie supplied. "Not yet."

"Or worse," he whispered.

"Don't worry—I'm okay."

Sam looked so relieved; she thought he might start to cry.

But all he did was smile. "Welcome home, Kitty."

I hope I did Caitie and Jon's reunion justice. I've been waiting to get these two idiots back in the same vicinity for a while.