Bran wasn't sure what he saw.

He knew there were two men that tried to rob Jon. Two men that Jon will easily defeat. He didn't even need a weapon. But them one of them took out a strangely shaped piece of metal and it shot something small at Jon that made him collapse while Andie showed up a second too late to skillfully disarm both attackers and knock them out. Bran watched as Jon fell on the ground completely and Andie knelt by his side. A minute after that carriages with bright light got to the area. Out of a big one came two men that took Jon with them on an orange carrier.

Bran followed the big carriage with the glowing red lights-not a fire, he was sure of it by the color and the way it moved- until it entered a building Bran couldn't get in.

He came back to Westeros to look into Daenerys' lavender eyes. She's not going to like the news.

I fucking hate hospitals.

I fucking hate being questioned by the police.

Now I was questioned by the police in a hospital, while waiting for my idiotic friend to get out of the surgery room. I can't blame him for wandering around, but still, an idiot.

"So the man shot your friend, and then you arrived?" The middle aged detective asked me.

"Like I told you," I said, exhausted, "I was looking for him in the area. He got lost, he's not very good with maps or GPS, and he's not from here. I heard something going on in that alley and when I just got a look at the scene, Jon got shot."

"And then you skillfully disarmed the offender and knocked out both him and his companion?"

"Yes."

"How did you know to do that?"

"A hobby of mine," I said. "I love martial arts."

"We also found a knife on your friend." He said and took it out. That stupid medieval thing.

"Oh, that?" I asked with a snore. "It's costume made," My mind worked, looking for a good lie, "He was getting ready to cosplay for the Comicon convention next month. Then he'd probably hang it on the wall in his living room or something." The officer quirked an eyebrow at me.

"Why did he try to defend himself with it, then? It weights like a real weapon."

I tried to stay calm, or better to say-stay calm inside, act like a startled worried friend on the outside. Not that I wasn't worried, I was just used to gunshots and street fights more than your average nerd.

Ok, I was exploding on the inside. I felt like I want to break down and cry, but not in front other people. I'll just have to make a show out of my usual show of not giving a fuck. "He probably just wanted to scare them off. Jon is not a violent guy." I said. It made sense to the cop. He scribbled something down.

"Does your friend have an ID? A passport? Driver's license?"

I gulped. They had my fake name and address already. Yes. I have a fake name and address. Get over it.

But what am I going to do about Jon?

I decided to try my luck and bit my lower lip, "You see, we don't know each other too well, he's only couch surfing at my place. Was supposed to fly to Sun Diego in a couple of days," I said, batting my eyelashes gently. Ew, I'm so going to hate myself for doing the 'Pretty Face'. I wasn't sure if he's going to buy that. But somehow being innocently cute made police officers nicer to me.

"Alright, we'll wait for him to wake up. We'll come back by tomorrow's morning." He said, buying only half of my performance. I could feel his eyes checking me out briefly as he walked away to his partner.

Five minutes after that, they took Jon out of the surgery room. He was still unconscious, but looked fine for someone who just got shot. He didn't need any help breathing, so that was good.

"I don't know how your friend had so much luck," The doctor said, holding a clipboard under her arm. "The bullet didn't any of the important organs. That was a short operation."

"Thanks doctor." I said, letting out a breath of relief.

"It will take a few days until he'll feel better. The blood loss and shock were probably the cause for his fainting. But he is a surprisingly strong man." She added and we walked down the corridors until we reached his room. "We'll give him some minerals to help his body. He only needed one blood transfusion but I wanted to be sure."

I nodded, then cut to the question I wanted to ask this whole time, "How many days do you think he'll need to stay?" I asked, thinking about the police that will come tomorrow morning.

"It depends on him when he'll wake up, but I'm pretty sure that he'll be fine in three days."

I sighed when she left me, entering the room and making some phone calls.

Jon still didn't wake up and I was pacing nervously in his room. I can't have Jon questioned by the police. It was only two in the afternoon, maybe he'll wake up and be fine. I hoped some of his fantasy-kingdom, medieval-mojo will work in our favor

I told Karen, Dakota and Zee what happened. They passed the message to Sean and Mika.

I have to get him out of here tomorrow, first thing in the morning. The doctor did the crucial thing, I can take care of him if it's really just pain killers.

I looked through the window at the city. I waited there for two hours, still standing on my feet, brushing away any offer to come and help from my friends. I need to deal with it myself or I'll break down.

It reminded me of something too painful that happened not too long ago. I know it ended differently, Jon will be fine. But the situations were too much alike. I felt responsible over Jon, on some extant, even though he's the one who went out there without really knowing how that world works. In both cases, I arrived too late, even though only one of them ended with death. And in both cases I couldn't sit down until my legs were sore and begging for a break.

Which was just about now.

I looked at Jon's arm that was connected to some a liquid, probably minerals he lost with his blood. The bag was dripping, one drop every few seconds, into the long pipe that was connected to his veins with a needle. I hope he won't try to rip it out like those confused people do in the movies.

I finally gave up to the pain in my feet and sat on the small couch in the corner.

The memories broke through the very carefully built wall in my brain and I took a big breath, feeling my tear well up. Everything's fine, I reminded myself as the pictures of Danielle in a pool of her own blood floated back, everything's fine.

Jon wasn't that close to me. I liked him, he was a good person. He had a passion to go back to his responsibilities, which was admirable and inspiring, for someone like me who will not admit she prefers to shove all her problems to the back of her head. He had a connection with Ghost that every dog lover will dream to have, and the vegan in me loved it. He knew how to lead and work in a team-as it was proven last night. But still, I don't know him for years. He's not on a family-level for me, and yet I felt almost as bad as I did back then.

I was crying. Not a pretty, one-tear cry. I was sincerely fucking crying like a four-year-old who fell from the tall slide after his mom told him not to go on the fucking tall slide.

I was glad I was alone and nobody saw me cry. Then they'll ask questions and make in worse.

After a few minutes I forced myself to stop. I wiped my eyes and nose and leaned my head back.

Jon was still sleeping. The machines around him indicate his heartbeats are fine.

I sighed and closed my eyes, not planning to fall asleep, but that's exactly what happened.

"Go back." Daenerys said. "Please, go back and tell me if he's alive."

Bran didn't know what to tell her. That he cannot go into the building? That the people there shooed him away because they thought he was a normal raven?

"It looked like he's taken care of." Bran said.

Daenerys looked at Tyrion who stood by her side. She was struggling, because she didn't want to show the pain she felt. "How can I go to fight the Golden Company like that?" She asked her advisor.

"You can, because there is no other choice." Tyrion said with a sigh. He himself was sad about the absents of Jon Snow.

Daenerys closed her eyes, swallowed and nodded. She fixed her eyes on Bran again. "Send me a raven the moment you know what happened to him."

Sansa, who sat beside Bran to make sure he's eating (even though he really doesn't have to eat), talked instead of him. "We will." She said, "I want to know what is going on with my bro… Jon as well."

Daenerys looked in Sansa's grey-blue eyes and nodded. She put on her gloves and stepped out of the room in silence, Tyrion in her tow.

Jon heard beeping noises. Steady, low beeping noises.

He opened his eyes to look at a ceiling. So he was alive, then. He was covered in blankets and laid on a stiff, tall bed. The room was bright. He looked to his left and saw a door and a window with curtains. Jon could see people walking and pacing back and forth behind the window, with a murmur of a busy place. It was almost like a beehive.

Some paintings where hung on the walls. To his right Jon saw a window that looked at the city. The sun started to set. On the corner, on a small couch, a small woman with blue hair was snuggling with a thin white blanket. Her eyes were a bit puffy, so Jon guessed she cried, which was hard to imagine Andie crying. It wasn't like her.

He wanted to get up from the bed, but then felt a sharp pain in his lower right stomach and a small pinch in his arm.

Still drowsy, he tried to take the blanket off and look at the damage. It looked like he was in some kind of a infirmary and that a healer took care of him.

Jon lifted the covers. He wore some type of a pale blue tunic. He couldn't get a good look at his wound from the angle he was laying in.

He tried to prompt himself on his left elbow, but he was too weak. Jon grunted in pain, and Andie stirred in the small couch.

He should've listen to her, or at least ask for her advice and guidance. He remembered what the late Lord Commander told him not too long after he joined the Watch. First you must learn to follow.

It wasn't in his nature to just follow and let someone else take the lead.

He stared at the ceiling for a bit, not sure what was worse-the pain in his lower stomach or that pinch in his arm.

He looked at his arm. It was connected to something, a liquid in a clear bag-like… thing. It hung on a metal hook.

Jon wasn't sure he wants to be a subject of alchemy. He was about to rip the pipe out of his skin when he heard someone clearing their throat.

"Nope, you don't get to run around, get shot and then also ruin your treatment." I said in my no-bullshit voice. "Leave it."

That was what I woke up to-Jon Snow trying to rip the needle out of his vain. I heard a sigh from the bed, but he put his arms back down.

I stood up and went to his bed. He was almost lying flat there, and it looked very uncomfortable. I took the remote from his side and pressed the button that pushed the top part up. "Look," I said when he was half-sitting in his bed. "Use that to adjust your bed." I handed him the control and he looked at it for a moment, then took it in his big hand. He pressed on the buttons, getting pretty confused at first.

His legs suddenly were up and he grunted with pain a frustration, then they were down, then he sat too straight, and finally he came back to the way I adjusted his bed in the first place. He sighed again and put the remote down by his side.

Then he finally looked me in the eye. "What happened?" And asked.

"You were shot in here," I pointed gently at the spot above the blankets, "And by miracle the bullet didn't cut through any vital organ." I said, then yawned.

"Yes, but how…"

"I disarmed them." I said. "When I learned how to use guns, I also learned how to fight without them. I'm not the best, but I was better than the guys who tried to rob you."

Jon thought for a moment and then looked at me again. "Are you alright?"

I didn't know why the man with the wires attached to him asked me, the girl who saved him, that question. "Yes." I said.

"You look like you cried." He said, almost like he tried to tease me. I could see curiosity in his eyes, but also a little bit of amusement, Just a little.

"Not for you," I half-lied. "I just watched a really sad movie while you were sleeping." That was a complete lie. Jon looked around the room and then smiled weakly, "No screens." He stated, somewhat proud of himself.

"And no fucks given." I gave him my best answer. It just made his smile grow. Then he got all serious again. "I'm sorry for not telling you I'm leaving." He said.

I didn't want to get this mad, but I did. I started to pace in the room, unsettled.

"Jon, I know I was going with the flow a bit too much, maybe I should've focused more on helping you to go back to your wars and dragon queens," I said and took a big breath. "But don't you ever, ever, do it again. Yes, most of the time it's safe. People will not mugg you in the light of day in most of New York, but one bullet is enough to end you." I sat on a chair next to his bed in a safe distance, "I don't want more shit like that on my conscience. I am responsible here for you, since you appeared in my kitchen, before Zee talked about her mambo-jumbo theories."

Jon looked at me with his puppy eyes and nodded slowly.

"I had to rest yesterday," I explained. "I couldn't just jump into it… and for the rest of the time when I wasn't taking you seriously… I don't take anything seriously. Sorry for that too. I'll make more effort to help you now." I felt like I was talking too much, and none of it was lighthearted or sarcastic. It made me want to throw up. Grow up, Andie! - Oh, HELL NO!

How am I going to do that? I don't know how to meditate. I don't have Zee's sixth sense. I have no idea what I'm jumping into. Oh fuck, what the hell.

"You said you don't want more shit like that on your conscience," Jon said and I clenched my jaw. "What happened?"

I pressed my lips and closed my eyes. "It doesn't matter." I said.

Jon took my hand and pressed on it. "Tell me." He demanded, but somehow still kept his voice gentle.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked and opened my eyes, looking straight at him.

"It's more for you than it is for me." He said. I rolled my eyes. Oh, good, therapy session with a medieval king dude.

"It's also for you to tell me what's wrong with your fucking life and your pretty queen." I answered. "And for the juicy stuff, but mostly for you." Jon gave me the look I gave him a moment ago when I didn't feel like talking. He still held my hand and I felt uncomfortable. It was too straightforward, too open. I don't know if he felt it, too.

I took my hand back.

"I feel I was in that situation before." Jon said and blinked, adjusting himself a bit on the bed.

I looked at the window, the city was dark with the night. "Alright, you know what?" I started. "I ask you something, you ask me something, we both have three questions and we have to give an honest answer." It was cliché, but it was the best I could come up with.

"Alright." Jon agreed. "Do you want to go first?"

"Ladies always go first." I said with a smug smile and thought a little. The first thing that pops in mind was Daenerys, but then again… I barely know Jon. I wanted to know him as a person with a life story. I decided to ask him about something that I didn't have until seven years ago.

"Tell me about your family." That should be simple too, right?

He looked surprised that this is what I asked him. Then he looked down at his hands. "It's… it's even more complicated than I thought only a few months ago." He said, staring down at his hands.

"Just tell me what you feel like." I said, "Who do you consider your family."

He looked up at me, then out of the window.

"Well, as long as I remember I was Ned Stark's bastard son," He said. "He was a great lord, the warden of the north, just married to Catelyn Tully. That woman despised me." He said with a smile from some reason, "But she was a great mother for my siblings. Robb was the first. He was just a little older than me… we always competed was kids… My memories of him were always him smiling a proud smile." Then Jon looked at me and the smile in his eyes disappeared. "Then there was Sansa. Four years younger than me. I love her like I love all my siblings, but she used to follow her mother examples sometimes when we were kids. She just wanted to do what she was expected from… to be a lady. And after all she's been through… she's a great lady, indeed." He looked happy and sad at the same time, and I felt there's a tragedy behind both of his siblings. "And then there's Arya. She's sixteen,"

"You're feisty Mullan-like little sister?" I asked.

"She's a better warrior than Mullan." Jon said and turned to look at me, then at the ceiling. "Then there's Bran, who's fifteen… and Rickon. He's…" I gave him a questioning look, "He's dead. And so is Robb. And Ned Stark… and Catelyn." Before I could comment, he continued. "They died because of treasury, but those scumbling and bickering do not matter now. Most of the people responsible for their deaths are dead. I'll take care of the rest myself after the war."

I was quiet. I had no idea he lost so much, or that he was a bastard in a world where it's probably considered a bad thing, by the way he said it. But now he is a king, somehow. How did all of these people die? Why? And so many of his own family… Hhe was also confused before answering to my question, I'm not sure why.

"I'm sorry." I felt like I had to say it, even though it probably won't help. "I really am." He looked at me again. "I also had an uncle. Uncle Benjen. He probably died after saving me."

Oh, more dead relatives. Fun.

I swallowed and looked at the window. "If it's too much for you, if you don't want to talk about it…"

"And there are more people I do not share blood with but I consider brothers and family. Some dead as well. Some aren't, I hope." He wasn't brooding when he said that. He was sad.

So many people he knew have died. And I thought my life was a bit of a tragedy.

"So it's common in your world… for people to die that often?" I asked.

"Is that another question from the game?" Jon asked.

"No! It's just… a comment." I said quickly. "It's just... crazy. Too many murders and untimely deaths."

"That's how it works there." Jon said with a sigh. "I wish it wasn't. But there are always place where people die or lose the ones they love to wars, plagues, or any other tragic event. I believe this is just our turn, sadly."

I nodded in agreement. While we were talking wars happened in different parts of the planet. People lost loved ones just like Jon did.

I decided it was too much and stood up. "I'm going to get us something to snack on." I said and left the room.

I found a vending machine-clean and new. Jon would love it.

It had three different Kit-Kat flavors and many other snacks. I bought one from each.

I came back to the room with my hands full of snack bags and chocolate bars, and splayed it all on Jon's bed.

"Something to snack on?" He asked and looked at the snacks that were almost a second blanket for him.

"You want me to take them back?" I asked and sat at the end of his bed.

Jon reached quickly to the Kit-Kat, then gathered half of the pile closer to him. "No." He said as he opened the wrap with his teeth and bit into the chocolate. He sighed with satisfaction.

"But this is not how you're supposed to eat Kit-Kat, you know." I said. And opened the white Kit-Kat.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You don't just bite into the bar! You need to break it into fingers." I showed him on the one I held and broke on piece. The sound was satisfying. Of course, those weren't vegan, so I handed them to Jon. Sometimes I want to cry because all those good things have milk in them and I can't have them.

"I don't see the difference." Jon said. I rolled my eyes.

"Try it." I insisted.

Jon looked at the white chocolate in his hands. "But it's a different type anyways!" He protested.

"Try it!" I said again. He looked at me with a dissatisfaction.

"The things you do take seriously…" He mumbled and bit into the Kit-Kat finger. He closed his eyes for a moment, "Alright, I see what you meant." He said. "I'll give you that one."

I opened a potato chips bag and munched happily.

"So tell me about your family." Jon said, "It's not common in my world for young women to live by themselves."

I looked at him and scrunched my nose. "Ok." I said and popped another chip into my mouth. "I've never knew my parents or anyone from my family, really. I have some memories of my dad. He had the same bronze skin as I do, and the same hair."

"Was his hair dyed blue like yours?" Jon asked with a bit of amusement.

I rolled my eyes. "No. It was chestnut." I said. "My eyes are probably from my mom, but I don't remember her at all. I was dropped at an orphanage when I was three. Andie Silver is not my birth name." I shrugged. "I was born in Greece… it's a country, far away from here. Hundreds and thousands of miles away. And its roots are some of the most ancient and deep in the world. But anyways, I was adopted pretty fast, or as I learned later, I was sold." Jon looked like he had so many questions, like I did when he told me about his family. I continued.

"So anyways, I grew up here. I forgot my Greek, and I was working for a drug cartel by the age of twelve, that's when I met the first person I now call a family-"

"Sean. You said you grew up together since the age of twelve." Jon said.

"So you do listen." I said with a small smile.

"Sometimes," Jon returned the smile to me.

"Anyway, Sean for me is a brother, even though we fought a lot. When I was seventeen… I met this old lady, Danielle. And she was… she got me out of the cartel's control. She kind of adopted me… She was like a mother to me," I sighed, trying not to blink so the tears won't roll out, "I don't know why I deserved her but she just chose to give me a chance after…" I took a deep breath. I dropped so many details from my story, I didn't feel like touching them at all, even though I knew Jon is probably going to ask me for the details later. "After I pointed a gun at her." I decided to say in the end. He's going to ask me about the whole gun thing anyways, will he? "So, I lived with her for two years and then she died. So… I moved to the city not so long after and started to work in the bakery. That's where I met the rest of my family, and reunited with Sean."

"The rest of your family?" Jon asked. "You mean your friends?"

I nodded. "And Marylin, my cat."

Jon smiled. "I never thought I can call Ghost a family member… But you're right. Animals can be family too sometimes."

I was thinking about my next questions. I has two left, and I shouldn't waste them on something I know he'll be more willing to answer-like my questions about the Walkers and the whole 'Great War' thing. Maybe they have their version of a world war? They call some other nation 'Walkers' just like the Brits used to call the Germans 'Gerrys' and the French 'Froggies'. Maybe it's something else… he did say there are dragons in his world.

So then there was Daenerys, that I'm surely going to ask about. And also, the deaths of his family members. I don't know which question will be harder. Which question I should ask first.

A nurse that came in interrupted my thoughts. Jon and I exchanged glances. The harder questions can wait.