Part 36; To Ease Questions.

Be patient and tough.

Someday this pain

Will be useful to you.

Reek

Five years…

He had been trapped in that endless—agonizing—darkness for five years?

Scrambled, untraceable thoughts tried to wrap around that concept.

Five…

Tired, heavy, arms latched hold of Sansa. This world needed to stop. His mind needed to stop.

He was so tired. So, confused.

How could he have been unconscious for five years?

It felt like yesterday. The sleeping—awakening—pushing of his 'protector' through his mind.

What caused a seizure?

Hot, thickness, accompanied these chambers. The air. His skin sweated. Breathed with great difficulty.

He wanted to know things. Real things. Like who that boy was…The one with sad eyes that stared up at him. Just off to the side.

Next to Jon—and another small boy.

"R-R…obb—"

He forced the word out. Flashes of a small little bundle brimmed at his focal point.

He had forgotten—Sansa had a baby.

How had he forgotten such an important fact?

Wetness pooled, rimmed his eyes. What else had he forgotten?

"Yes, that is Robb—" She made a slight head-gesture, toward the crestfallen, youth. "Our son has grown, Reek. But I told him about you. About his papa." Her words made his heart glow with pride. Light.

His son was five. He had a son…no longer a baby.

He remembered the warm, fuzzy bundle of blankets, and smiles. Little Robb.

It was only yesterday…

Strained grasps on reality, came together.

More and more, the longer he kept his eyes open.

Years, he spent as this lifeless, being. Still, unable to process thoughts. Still so tired…

"The Maester only need know if you are hurting. Are you Reek? Does anything hurt? When I touch you—" Soft—warm hands, dragged pale-skin. "—are you in any pain?"

He liked the warmth. Sansa. She is warmth.

It took a moment—longer than it should—but he managed to shift his head.

No.

Nothing hurt. Everything felt heavy—impossibly so.

"W-We-ak…" The single word sounded guttural. Harsh—and somehow, toneless, all at once.

"You will be for a while. We have to build up your arms, and legs. You will feel better, soon. I promise." She flinched. He saw it, though barely registered it.

"We kept you dosed with Milk of the Poppy, too. We thought you might be in pain." Her eyes were blue-pools. Beautiful. Tender.

She cared so deeply—such emotion was written into those fierce-blues.

He made a deep breath. Tired eyes, managed to stay open. Even though he feared that drug—it made him useless—his ambitions were gone.

Hazy—colorless things he could not quite grasp.

He made a noise—even that vibration drained precious energy. Rattled his vocal cords, seared his cells.

Sansa's warmth was everywhere. Engulfed him.

Squirrelly sensation still dominated his belly. Screamed for touch.

For comfort. Sansa's kind of comfort.

He felt hardness where their thighs touched. Felt hunger—need.

Her eyes changed—weight shifted.

He wanted—needed—worse than it had ever been. How could he convey as much to Sansa? She felt it. Felt him.

He felt helpless. Visions swirled behind his eyelids.

He closed them. Let his arms fall away from around her waist. It felt like boulders weighed them down, still.

Had he done wrong? He reacted with need, in front of people.

He wanted to cry.

"Papa?" Sudden brightness surged up his spine. Tingled right in his heart. He wrenched his tired-eyes back open.

Curious sun-kissed, skin beamed back at him. Frightened, solemn eyes. Identical to Sansa's—To Robb's. Curly mops of brown, hair laid askew on his forehead.

So handsome.

Like Robb had been.

"R-R-Ro-bb." He forced out the name. Needed to say it, again.

To know Sansa's son was no more a warm, soft, laughter-induced, babe—enlightened him.

Swarmed through his mind. Screamed at him.

Robb had been safety. Light. Unable to hurt him. Now—this being looked up to him. Sought his attention. His wisdom.

He could not think straight. But a child depended on him, now.

"I always wished for you to wake up, Papa…" His small, bony figure climbed astride Reek's lap. Wiggled, squirmed, and pushed his nose into the soft skin, of his neck.

Reek whined. Not from pain—from emotion.

The heavy warmth weighed in on him. This felt familiar.

Frequent.

How was he remembering this?

How many times had Little Robb sought this comfort from him? How many?

He questioned his own mind. His own memories.

He needed his head to connect. To break through this fog—and reawaken.

With a ton of weight attached; his arm lifted, anew. Curled in heaviness, around the young boy's back. Brushed his spine. Held the bones, near.

He was here now. He wanted to say it. To promise he would stay—but promises never came true.

Sansa made promises. Promises of his safety—but promises were impossible to keep. Impossible to have.

He could fade into another seizure. Never wake up again. Never live again.

And now this little life would be devastated by that outcome.

How could he handle it? The not knowing? Not remembering?

For now, all he could manage—was to settle. Hold Little Robb (with great difficulty) and fade back into beckoning sleep.

Sansa

To see Reek in this state—hurt. Beyond words, nor reason. She could barely touch him, without regret for her own actions. Without disappointment that lingered in the worst possible way.

Jon took the initiative, to usher everyone out of their chambers. His son, the Maester—everyone.

Reek appeared to be in no immediate, danger. So, Sansa made no move to prevent him. Instead, she returned to his bedside, and let her fingers brush over Robb's back. He was still settled on Reek, as though willing his strength to go into Reek.

He was such a sensitive boy. Such care in those Tully-eyes.

"Mum? Will he wake up again, this time? Or will it be like…before?"

Stubby-arms, unwound from Reek's frame. And the arm that had been around him, fell back down, to Reek's lap. Robb still, only shifted enough to look her in the eye. He had a habit of needing to look a person in the eye. Sometimes, she could swear that he could see through any lie she told him.

He was inquisitive. Highly intelligent.

"He will wake again. He is tired. His body is very weak. It is unnatural to be immobile for this long." Sansa found difficulty in explaining all of this to him. Especially with those knowing-eyes, firmly-planted on her.

"Mum, do you think…Will Papa, be okay?" His voice trembled through the whispers, cracked, and broke in places.

Sansa's heart shattered. "Of course, Robb. He is going to recover, and he will be just as strong as he was, before. He has endured so much worse than this. Remember how I told you that, Papa was hurt by Ramsay?"

He nodded.

"What Ramsay did was worse than anything the seizure did to him."

"He took his cock away…That is what the maids said."

Sansa flinched. Repulsed by the thought that vicious gossip was still flying around, about her husband.

"He did." Sansa swallowed the thickness, that rose in her throat. It always hurt her to remember the first time she saw Reek cowering in those hound pens. His body damaged—broken. It had been nearly impossible not to feel some form of pity for him. Even then. Even despite the (supposed) knowledge, that he had murdered her brothers.

"Why? Why did he hurt, Papa, that way?"

Robb was not going to give this up. She could tell. Her answers had not satisfied his curious mind. He was still seeking. Still needed to know.

"He liked the pain it caused." Sansa could not believe she was about to belay such information onto her son, but she knew it would bother him. Eat him up inside. Worry him.

He was so sensitive to things, and knowing he was biologically connected to this vile man—would affect him.

"He liked to see, Papa, hurting?"

Sansa nodded. "He liked to see anyone hurt, really. But, Theon most of all. Reek is the name; Ramsay gave to him. He told him it suited him. Would not let him bathe, or wash his clothes. He would smell, because of it. So, Ramsay would tease him."

A few tears rolled down Robb's cheeks. He sniffled. Then rubbed his arm across his face, to wipe the snot, and tears away. "Papa went through all of that?"

Another nod.

"And he survived…" Robb's voice trailed off.

"His soul split into pieces. That is why Papa may go by different names, sometimes. He is broken." She explained,

Robb's lower lip trembled. "He still goes by that name…Reek. That is why you call him, Reek? Papa prefers that name?"

"I explained to you before, that he has other personalities, Robb. Reek is one of them. Theon is also one. He will tell you, which version of himself he is, when he wakes up. Sometimes he changes during the day, others when he sleeps. We just have to wait and see."

Robb was clearly troubled. His tiny fingers were brushing Theon's skin. Lightly, tracing his neck. Theon would shift every now and again. But never wake.

"What if I become like Ramsay? What if…What if I hurt people…?" Robb gave her a frightened state. "Do you…think I am capable of it?'

Sansa gaped at her son. She remembered a time when she believed he was only capable of atrocities. Before he was born. Before she ever held him in her arms. She had feared him. Feared his capabilities. Not now, though. Not since she had begun to raise him. Had witnessed his natural gentility, and complacent resolve.

"No. You will never be capable of it. Ever. I promised, Theon that you would only know him. That you would never know of Ramsay, so that you would never have to know about such a monster. Only because you have no shared personality traits with that man. He was cruel, beyond reason. You care, Robb. You care more than anyone I know. You have such a big heart. You love without fail. Ramsay was incapable of love. Of feeling. You aren't."

He seemed to take note of her conviction. He was still crying—but not sniffling. He appeared thoughtful.

"I hope, Papa will love me. Despite what my Father did to him. Do you think he fears me, Mum?"

Sansa's eyebrows drew together. "He would never fear you, Sweet Boy. He fears a lot of things, but not you. I promise. He is just scared right now. He will become better. You will see." She promised.

And in her heart—she prayed it was true.

AN: I am sorry I have been MIA these last few days. I live in the town of Ridgecrest that was hit by the massive Earthquakes, and I have been dealing with that, these last few days. It has been terrifying, and scary! And I do not wish it on anyone!