SANSA

"Uncle Benjen?" she could hardly believe it. She stared at the sharp-featured face of the uncle that she had not laid eyes on since she was nine. After the accident, nobody had been able to reach him. And when a year had passed without any successful contact from him, Uncle Petyr had given up and Sansa had convinced herself that her father's younger brother was dead, along with every other member of her immediate family.

But here he was alive and well. His blue-grey eyes that always used to carry a hint of laughter were now studying her intently, and suddenly Sansa was overwhelmed. Her legs gave out without warning and she plummeted towards the floor.

Strong arms caught her from behind at the same time Uncle Benjen grabbed her in alarm.

She was barely aware as she was carried into the apartment and laid down on an oversized, plush sofa. A gentle large hand stroked her hair out of her face as two pair of worried faces glanced down at her in concern.

A short moment later, a cold washcloth was pressed against her forehead and the coolness sent a bolt to her mind, jarring her back to alertness.

"Uncle Benjen?" she whispered, staring at the familiar face, her voice full of disbelief and wonder.

"It's me, Sansa," his hoarse voice echoed her own disbelief and wonder. "Jon showed me the letter that you sent him. We both couldn't believe it... It was as if a ghost had risen from the past..." Speaking seemed too much as he bent to wrap his arms around his niece, and straightened with her embraced in a bear hug that lifted her feet clear off the floor. "Gosh, Sansa," he murmured, still holding her tightly. "All these years I thought you were dead."

"I thought everyone was dead too," she revealed, sobs choking her words. "I didn't know Jon was alive until a couple of weeks ago. I didn't even know you were alive until you opened the door." Sansa wrapped her arms around her uncle's neck at a loss for words.

The uncle and niece held each other, emotions overflowing, as Sandor stood a few feet away in awkward discomfort.

When Sansa was finally set back down on her feet, she looked around eagerly. "Where's Jon?"

"In school," Uncle Benjen replied, smiling.

"School?" Sansa repeated in disbelief, then she wanted to smack herself. Jon was only three years older than her. He would be eighteen now. Just starting university.

"He attends NYU," her uncle informed her. "He would have gone to Harvard, but he wanted to stay close to home." There was pride in his voice. "He'll be back soon."

"I can't wait," Sansa replied. She could barely take her eyes off of her uncle, her own living flesh and blood. She'd had Uncle Petyr, but they weren't related by blood. Although she firmly believed that family went beyond blood.

She looked at him, dying to ask the question that burned her tongue. But every time it rose to the surface, she swallowed it back down, unwilling to ruin the happy mood. Finally, curiosity tearing her apart, she asked, "Uncle Benjen…after the accident...why didn't you come for me? Why didn't you visit?"

Her voice was full of vulnerability that she was unable to hide. Didn't want to hide. She wanted him to know how much it hurt feeling like he didn't care.

Her uncle's head hung down. She could see that this was a topic that pained him and that made her feel a little bit better. "I didn't know." His blue-grey eyes had lifted to stare into her own crystalline eyes. So different yet both held the same pain.

"I didn't know, love. If I had known what happened to you guys, I would have traveled day and night to reach you all. But Sansa, at that time I was obsessed with traveling the world, living on the edge, trying to survive in remote places. I was unreachable for a couple of years. By the time I returned to civilization, it was only to receive the news that my brother, his wife, and children had all passed away in a car accident."

His eyes closed as he attempted to get his emotions back in check, but when he opened them again, Sansa was shocked by the pain reflected in them. "I was devastated, but I didn't think there was anything I could do. I wasted a lot of months drinking the pain away and being a self destructive idiot.

"It was only last year that I got myself together and became involved with the family business. And this year that I reunited with Jon."

His eyes gleamed with pride at the mention of Jon and Sansa leaned forward eagerly. "Tell me about Jon," she begged. "How is he like now? Would he like me? We never used to get along before. Me and Arya used to fight so dreadfully, but Jon and I hardly interacted at all. I think he viewed me as snooty and I thought him weird." Sansa stared at her uncle awaiting his response.

"Jon loves you, love. Always and forever. He broke down when he found out you were alive. He did the same when he found out I was alive too. Actually we both let loose some manly tears." Uncle Benjen's blue-grey eyes looked at her with so much love and happiness that she couldn't help giving him an impulsive hug.

"Jon was living in London ever since the accident. He was adopted and raised by a couple there. He arrived to the office one day, maybe he was interested in seeing the place where Ned used to run the business, but when he walked in, he spotted me. It was as if he'd seen a ghost. He nearly fainted! Kind of like you." Uncle Benjen chuckled and Sansa laughed too, happy beyond belief.

"Anyway. He had been accepted to the top American colleges and universities and had decided upon moving to the states while attending school. He was considering enrolling in Harvard, but immediately chose to attend a college in NYC so that we wouldn't be separated again. I bought an apartment near his school and here we are. The deed is in his name so if I ever have the itch to travel the world again and live remotely, he would already be set up with his own place."

Uncle Benjen finally turned to Sandor and then back to Sansa. His gaze intent. "Are you going to introduce me? Or will I be forever left to wonder why my fifteen year old niece is traveling around on her own with a grown man?"

Sansa's heated blush quickly led way to a hasty explanation as Uncle Benjen's eyes' narrowed. She shot a glare at Sandor who seemed content to lounge back on the couch without offering an answer to her uncle's questions.

She provided a brief background on Sandor and her meeting when he nearly mowed her over with his truck twice, then hastily skipped over to when she ran away (blushing as she retold this part) then skipped over to a brief retelling of running into Sandor in Chicago and quickly skipped to him driving her to Jon's because he felt responsible for her since she was determined to get here and he didn't want to leave her on her own.

Uncle Benjen relaxed when she finished her greatly edited recounting, although he still wasn't happy with the thought of her having spent a few days traveling alone with a grown man.

Sansa heard the door open from somewhere down the gallery and turned to her uncle as her nerves kicked into full gear once again. He gave her shoulder a reassuring pat before yelling, "Jon! Get in here!"

An achingly familiar figure appeared in the great room, a confused expression on his face. And Sansa stared at him, unable to move or speak.

Sansa recalled a particular photo of her father that she used to stare at whenever she visited her father's office room. It was her mother's favorite picture of him. In it, her sharply dressed father, barely eighteen, stood proud and confident in front of the exclusive and posh private school that he had attended, an air of privilege and wealth surrounded him, almost palpable through the frame. Sansa would always stare entranced and awe filled at the weirdness of seeing an eighteen year old version of her father. Skinny and youthful, his long solemn face aware of his affluent status, although free of arrogance. His grey eyes serious as if already weighing the expectations required of him.

As she looked at Jon, it was as if Father had stepped out of the picture frame of that old photograph to stand in front of her. Jon's head turned slowly, his gaze falling on her, and as she stared into his proud but warm grey eyes, which currently appeared so dark they could be mistaken for black, she felt like she was eleven years old again, staring into her father's eyes. It was almost as if she had a segment of her home back. Her treasured childhood with her parents and her siblings.

Unable to contain her sudden flood of emotion, Sansa sprung up from the couch, sprinting across the room and flinging herself into her brother's arms as sobs erupted from her chest and ripped brutally out of her throat.

His shock caused him to stagger back slightly and she looked up at him, beaming through her tears as she took in his grey eyes that were full of disbelief and other powerful emotions. "Oh Jon," she sighed, hugging him again. In her arms she held precious memories. Happiness and hope. A piece of the family that she had lost and someone to remember the best parts of that family with.

Jon's shock seemed to wear off and suddenly his arms were wrapped around her tightly, holding her like there wasn't any possibility of him ever letting go. And as they hugged each other as if their lives depended on it, Sansa knew in her heart that running away from home had been worth it, because it had led to this moment.