AN: So Jon made the terrible mistake of sleeping with Ygritte, that'll come back to bite him, no doubt. This one gets pretty angst-y really quick.~ Foxy

Chapter eight: Dany

Loud music, cheap beer, and wandering hands. If she wanted that she could've stayed at home with Viserys and Drogo. But- on the other hand- what was she expecting to happen? Those three things are literally the foundation of a club; the only parties Dany ever went to had included cake, noisy kids, and even noisy adults who claim to be her relative somewhere down the line.

She never got those birthdays. Missie said that she wasn't missing anything special.

She walked along in the pitch darkness, tripping over the twisting weeds and unearthed roots that caught onto her toes. Her knees fell into the dirt, and she didn't try to move. That beer was literally the grossest thing ever. She wanted to barf, but couldn't bring herself to tasting it again. It wasn't just the disgusting beverage- the stress of everything made her super uneasy, the beer was just icing.

As she sat in the field, she wondered how she came to being in the dark. Oh, that's right. A boy she actually liked wanted to use her as a fucking-device to make his crappy life better. But wasn't that exactly the reason she had come to this party? To romp away the memories of her crappy life with her even crappier brother? She wasn't going to do it to someone who liked her though- maybe that Robb guy will still take her up on the offer? No. Then McGruff the Crime Dog would be sticking his nose into their business, trying to figure out why he had offended her and why she wanted to have sex with his brother but not him.

What was his name anyway? It wasn't Stark boy or diary-pervert. Shit. She didn't even get his name. Dany was a crappy person too.

Holding her red strappy shoes in one hand, and her aching stomach in the other. And she cursed that party, cursed that Stark-diary-pervert-boy, cursed fashion- because who honestly thought it was a good idea to get wasted in high heels- and more so, she cursed herself. What a stupid naïve girl she had become.

If she ever made it out of this field alive, she promised to never let herself get pushed-over again. If she ever did, but things weren't looking so great. Her motivation dead, and the night taking its toll; she could either A. Walk until civilization, B. Die in this rapist-field, or C. head back to the party and find Missie. C was probably the most preferable.

Headlights blazed on behind her, just as she was standing up, dusting the dirty remains of the dry grass from her knees. Her stomach lurched, and she bent herself over to await the passing sickness. The vehicle honking caused her to jump into a wild patch of scratchy weeds.

Oh God, this is it. Her first run-in with a murderer. Pull out your knife- stick 'em with the pointy end.

The doors swung open and a familiar husky voice called over the roaring engine. From there she could make out long curly hair, and an irritated face.

"What in Seven Hells- get your skinny ass over 'ere."

Yep. That's right folks; it's her sweet, kind-hearted story-book Prince. Too bad Dany didn't want to be saved. Not by him, that is.

"Leave me alone!" She screamed back, walking out unto the road with her hair a wild mess. "I don't want your help!"

He glanced back and forth, rounding the open door to follow her, "why are you being so difficult? Lemme take you home, you stupid female!"

"Wow, thanks, you're really working in my favor now." He gripped her by the wrist and pulled her back towards the truck, Dany began screaming. "Rape! Somebody help!"

"Will you shut-up?!" The boy growled, "nobody's gonna show if you scream that!"

"Fire! Help!- Ow, stop it, you're hurting my arm!" He pulled her back into the headlights, and now she could see his angry face. Her leg flew forward and her bony ankle hit his inner-thigh, but if you had asked her, she would have said it was pretty much a bull's-eye. "Fuck off!"

"Wait!" He called as he folded over into the beams, and she actually humored him. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. That was a mean trick I pulled on you, and the last thing I want is for you to hate me for it."

"You know, I actually liked you. You seemed like a cool guy."

"I know, I fucked up."

"Well... You did chase me down to apologize- though you could have down a better job than that." She held a finger up into the light, "and don't drag a girl into your rapist truck."

"Don't try to kick a man in the unmentionables." He countered, standing up and covering her with his shadow.

"Don't drag a girl into your rapist truck." She repeated. And he laughed in the most genuine kind of way. "Apology accepted."

Dany grabbed her shoes out of the dust and fled to the passenger door, gripping onto it with an extreme tightness, for it was beside a deep brush and she didn't feel like dying. He called from inside, "it's unlocked."

She clambered inside, dropping her shoes onto the floorboard. She couldn't see much from the darkness, only that it had a single bench inside and an updated radio. It also smelled like wood and leather, and in a strange way, she felt at home. Looking out the back, it was clear to see that she had not even left the parking section of the club; she would have undoubtedly died out there.

"So, what is your name?" Dany asked in an innocent tone, messing around with the radio dials.

"Jon."

"Oh. I'm Dany."

"Is that short for-"He stopped as the car rode up over a boulder, causing both of them to bounce in their seats. "-Danielle?"

"No, Daenerys," she answered, much to her discomfort, finally finding a channel she liked. "ooh. This is a great song."

"Hey! Get your seatbelt on, Xena."

"It is!"

"No it's fucking not. I can see it from here."

"I feel icky… I don't want to wear it..." She grumbled, sprawling across the two seats, he looked down at her with the time allowed.

"I don't want you flying through the windshield."

There he goes worrying about her again, just as he had before. Her insides warmed and her face flushed.

She lied on her side, pulling her knees up to her. Jon didn't argue anymore, setting his right arm across the top of the seat to appear casual, but really he was hovering it above her in case of an abrupt stop. Dany sang along with whatever song had been playing, always going an octave higher because she couldn't sing the low notes.

She was pretty happy here. And for a moment she pretended that Jon was her boyfriend and they were going on a trip- maybe to the beach? Maybe to that Riverrun place all the cooler kids spend their spring break?

"Hey- let's go to the river." She whispered into the seat, playing with a hole in the cushion, stopping only when it had ripped further.

"We've been drinking."

The words fell into the air and lingered. The only sound now was the radio, the warm air buzzing, and an occasional sigh from him. Dany inched closer, stopping when the top of her head brushed his thigh and her hair tangled in his seatbelt clasp.

She remembered how sincere her kiss was, and how brutal his was. She so desperately wanted him to like her, as she had him. She wanted them to go on trips at random, because she had asked and he loved her enough to waste time. Because he loved her.

Love. Missie was right, there was such a thing. Maybe it was that cheap beer talking, but Dany wanted it. And she wanted it with this stranger.

"I don't want to go home." She admitted, squeezing the rough fabric of his pant-leg. There was dirt on it, all over his knees and converse. Her legs were dirty too, as well as her bare feet. She could feel the road turn smoother, and the truck hummed softly.

"Are you sure? We're in town now."

"There are bad people there." The brunette stated simply in a sad voice that didn't sound as her own. Jon said nothing, but continued driving anyway. Dany couldn't see the road from her position, but the dawning sun lit up the cabin of the truck with a sickly light, and she could finally glance around it. Her eyes fell on his face, and he stared intensely at the road, glaring from beneath his dark eyelashes. He was thinking about what she had said, applying it to himself.

"I don't want to go home either."

The radio read as 4:36, and the way the truck leaned, it was clear they were climbing up a road. The two had been travelling for what felt like an hour, all in silence. By now Jon had rolled the window down, and held a lit cigarette between his lips. His tense hand was now relaxed, and she could feel the tips of his fingers dusting the surface of her hair.

"I have class today," she laughed melodically, forcing the boy to adjust in his seat.

"I thought you were asleep." He made movement to throw out the cigarette, clearly ashamed of his secret habit, but she stopped him.

"You can smoke it. I love the smell." And she truly did. Despite the burning rage she felt for her brother, his smoking was always something she had liked- the smell was gritty and gross. But she was drawn to it.

"I'm trying to quit, but I keep finding a reason not to."

"Where are we going?" She sat up and glanced out the dusty window, rolling it all the way down so the she may stick her head out of it.

"Just driving."

"What about your brothers?" She rolled up the window, it was too cold to enjoy the wind; she went sliding to the center seat as he turned sharply.

"What about them?"

"How will they get home?" When he couldn't seem to find an answer, she had pulled her phone from her bag, "I can ask Missie to drop them off- she might do it, even though she hates that one guy."

"Theon?" Jon puffed out more smoky air, flicking the bud into the road, "yeah, nobody actually likes him."

"He kind of reminds me of my brother," she gushed, warming her legs, " 'cept he's probably nicer, huh?"

"Is your brother the reason why your arm is all bruised up?" He motioned to the right side of the truck, eyes still glued to the road. He had probably been examining her as she napped, and in the light, Dany could see the dark purple stripes.

"No." She lied.

"Well, he shouldn't hit you." Jon said anyway, cranking up the window with his free hand.

"Well, you know how it is. Boys will be boys." Dany shrugged, sliding her legs beneath her, reaching out to dig through the glove box.

"That's not boys being boys." Jon grumbled, turning down a more wooded area, "That's boys being monsters… You know, yesterday, a boy named Joffery was beating my sister with a stick. That is not right, and neither is that-"

"You don't know how it is," she exclaimed defensively, "he keeps me in line. Sometimes, I deserve it."

"Who told you that? Who told you it was okay to hit someone because they deserve it?"

His voice rose in anger, and her brows lowered over her fierce eyes. "Careless and stupid people- like you- did."

He slammed on the brakes, catching her with one hand. The truck crept to the edge of the road, and Dany's heart drummed in her chest. She was terrified. It was if she had 'awoken the dragon' in Jon, and she gawked at him as if he were her own brother. Why did she always have to ruin things?

"People like me? I would never hit-"

"You're getting angry." She stated, inching away from him.

"Yeah, I'm fucking angry! You don't know me. Yet you sit there and accuse me of being a monster."

"Yeah, but you're getting angry, and you're yelling- look Jon! You're gripping the steering wheel right now, like it's somebody's neck. You're not a monster- yet. But you will be." Dany pressed her back against the passenger door, and his tense body softened. "I know your type- you're just like my brother. A ticking time bomb."

"You know nothing."