Notes: I AM SO ABSOLUTELY SORRY, GUYS!

Thank you so much for the constant support you're giving this fanfiction. I swear I haven't abbadoned it, but I lost my muse for a short while.

This chapter is short -I know -but I promise you better days will come.

Thank you for not giving up on me.

Chapter 12

"Thank you for the help, Lady Arryn. I always have a hard time buying presents for my mother."

Sansa gave Robb a look. "How? She raised you. You should know what she likes."

"Technically, I do." He defended himself. "But every time I get her something it's the wrong color, the wrong model, the wrong size…" He groaned. "She never says anything, and she always says she loves it. Then Arya sends me a message saying mom had to return the present again."

Sansa chuckled. "Fine. I'll help. What does she like?"

"Mom is a classic lady; she likes pearls and scarves and handbags. She hates animal prints, and jeans." Robb listed off, as they walked around the store.

Sansa arched a brow in his direction. "You have all the pertinent information. How can you mess that up?"

"I don't know." He sighed.

"Show me her picture." Sansa demanded.

Robb pulled his phone out and showed her a picture of Catelyn Stark. "She is gorgeous!"

"She is." Robb agreed with a fond smile. "She's a great woman."

"She has to be, to raise you all." Sansa teased.

"I want to defend myself, on principle, but I can't." Robb laughed. "She had her hands full while we were growing up."

"I mean, she had five of you. My mother made it look like having two kids was extremely taxing."

"Your mother is a crazy bitch." Robb offered. "If you pardon my French."

Sansa gave him a look. Robb and Jon had been extremely understanding about her past. Jon had given his support quietly, but Robb had no idea how to do that. He was loud, and his opinion on her mother wasn't flattering at all.

And maybe Sansa should defend her, but… Lysa made Sansa feel horrible for a long time. She drained her self-esteem and her desire to do things.

She couldn't call her mother a bitch, but if Robb could do it for her, she was fine with it.

"But my mother always wanted more." Robb carried the conversation along. "She wanted a girl to be a princess, but Arya is the furthest thing from a princess she could get."

Sansa laughed. She didn't know any of the other Starks, but she'd heard many stories about Arya, the only girl. Jon was particularly fond of her, but it was clear that Robb also thought his sister was the best one ever.

"She'd love you." He decided. "You're so girly."

"Excuse you?" She asked dryly.

Robb chuckled. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm just saying you are and she'd like you because of that."

"Right." She drawled.

They walked around a bit more, then Robb saw a bag. "How about this one?"

Sansa arched a brow. "Really? With all these colors?"

"It's a bag."

Sansa sighed. "I can see that. But you just said your mother is more classic. I don't think she'll like the color combination. This orange is way too much."

"It's a bag." He insisted.

"Oh my god, Robb." She took the bag from him. "This one." She passed him a blush colored handbag. "This one."

"It's pink."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "It's blush. It's basic, classic and I saw a scar back there that will look amazing with it. She'll like it."

Robb smiled at her. "I'll take your word for it."

"As you should."

"You should come with us to the dinner." Robb said.

Sansa was taken aback. "Why?"

"Because she'll like meeting you." He explained as if it was obvious.

"It's a family thing." She indicated.

"And you're our friend. She won't mind. She'll love to know we keep better company than Theon."

Sansa narrowed her eyes. "Do you invite all your friends for those things?"

"Just the really special ones." He replied with an innocent look that didn't fool her at all.

"Robb…"

"Ok. I get it." He chuckled. "You know we like you a lot, Sansa. We want you close all the time. It this wrong?"

She gave him a look, but she didn't answer.

It wasn't wrong, but it was affecting her heart and she didn't know what she'd do.

"Thank you for helping me with this."

Sansa chuckled. "Honestly, Jon… You can buy a shirt without my help."

"I'll just get something black." He grumbled.

"And what's wrong with black?" Sansa wanted to know.

"Mom always says I wear too much black." He told her with a shrug.

Sansa had noticed earlier on that Jon was always reserved when it came to his mother. When he talked about his siblings and his dad he was more relaxed, happier. Every time he talked about Cat Stark he'd speak carefully, as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to call her mom.

"So you want to buy something different?" Sansa pushed gently. "Because of her?"

"I…" He cleared his throat. "Robb would call me an idiot if he heard me speaking like this, but yes." He paused, then looked at her. "You know that I'm not actually Robb's brother, right?"

"The girls told me you're cousins, but his family adopted you." Sansa said.

"Yes. My mother died when I was five, and uncle Ned took me in." He spoke this part very fast, like he didn't want to talk about it at all. "Cat… In the beginning she wasn't too keen on the idea."

"Jon…"

"She changed her mind a while later, but…"

"Are you afraid she'll change her mind again if you aren't a good son?" Sansa pressed kindly.

"I know it's stupid. We've talked about this, the two of us. She even apologized for not being there at first. But she had two small children at the time, and…"

Sansa put a hand on her shoulder. "Jon. I'm sure she had her reasons. Maybe she was just too young, maybe there was something else. But it's in the past. She's your mom, just like Robb is your brother."

He gave her a small smile. "Thanks. Don't tell Robb I said that. He always worries."

"He's a good brother." Sansa told him gently. "Now, about that shirt…"

"How about this one?" He pointed at a beautiful blue shirt.

"Well, apparently you didn't need my help at all." She teased. "It's beautiful."

"It reminds me the shade of your eyes." He spoke softly, his eyes on the shirt.

Sansa's heart jumped inside her chest. "Really?"

Jon scratched the back of his neck. "Yes." He cleared his throat one more time. "What do you think?"

"I think you should try it on, just for the size. But the color is perfect."

Jon grabbed her hand gently. "Thank you for coming with me, Sansa.

"It's no problem, Jon."

Notes: There you go.

Next chapter will be exclusively Jon and Robb's POV of this whole thing. We'll finally know what has been going on in their minds during this whole time. It'll have very little dialogue, because it's more about the reflection they had that took them to this present moment we're in.

I don't know exactly when I'll post it, but I promise to do my best to be soon-ish.

Anyway, let me know your feelings.