Chapter Six

Sansa awoke the next morning to someone pounding on the door. Margaery shot out of bed and stumbled to the door, hair all over the place and shouted, "What?!" at the person on the other side. Sansa curled up into a ball and burrowed deep into the covers so that only the top of her cheek and up was showing.

Sansa wasn't even aware of what time Margaery had come home the night before. She must have been out cold and for Margaery it must have been late. She wondered if her friend knew anything about what had happened with Ramsay. Probably not.

"Jesus fuck, Jon!" Maergery exclaimed. "Sansa, your boyfriend is here."

Sansa didn't move. She did however plan right then and there to murder Margaery later for that comment.

Jon looked like a veritable thundercloud as he stepped into the room and pointedly slammed the door, glaring at Margaery's back as he did so. Sansa smiled under the covers.

Margaery flipped Jon off without even turning around and then crawled back in her bed and flung the covers and a pillow over her head.

Jon came over to Sansa's bed and peered closely at her. When he saw that her eyes were open, he sat down on the bed. "We usually meet for breakfast at the cafeteria," he told her. "You weren't there. We also meet after our first class and you weren't there. Sansa, it's noon. Why are you still in bed?"

Sansa hadn't realized it was so late. She flipped the covers down and gaped at him. "It's noon?!" She struggled to sit up to look at her alarm clock, except it was faced away from her. She reached out to turn it towards her when she felt Jon's hand on her arm. He pulled her arm gently towards him.

His brows were knit together in question and she looked down to see what he was looking at. The bruises on her arm where Ramsay had grabbed her. It all came rushing back to her and she shivered.

"What happened to your arm, Sansa?" Jon asked softly. "Are those fingerprints? They look like fingerprints."

She thought about lying and making up some silly story about her and Margaery goofing off, but this was Jon. She couldn't lie to Jon. She didn't want to lie to Jon.

"Sansa?"

She made a face and sighed. "You have class soon."

He looked at her searchingly. He knew something was up, she could tell by the set of his jaw, and he was determined to find out what it was. "I'll skip."

"Jon Snow, why I never!" Sansa mock gasped.

He shot her a look. "I've been known to do it."

"All right, can I just shower really quick?"

He nodded and ran a hand through her hair. "Of course, sweetling."

The gesture and the words were just so sweet and Sansa feels as though something inside her shifted and expanded. What it was, she didn't know, but that's what it felt like. She took a minute to just look at him before she climbed out of the bed, grabbed her things for the shower, and rushed off.

When she returned, dressed and feeling human again, she found Jon sitting on her bed and rifling through one of her books as he sat back against her pillows. It was a sight she had seen often, but for some reason this time it feels different. Like she was seeing him for the first time.

He looked up at her and put the book down. "Ready?"

She nodded and after she put her things away and grabbed her purse, they were out the door.

Once in the elevator, Jon moved closer to her and lifted her arm, pushing away her sleeve. He frowned. The bruises were red and purple and round. "What did you do, Sansa?" he asked her.

"Ramsay Bolton kind of…got aggressive," she blurted out.

"What do you mean he got aggressive?" Jon asked, his voice even and low. For Jon, that was the calm before the storm.

"He grabbed me and wouldn't let go. It was so stupid, I didn't even want to go to that party and I let Margaery talk me into it—"

"What else did he do to you? Did he…?"

"No! Jaime came by before he could do anything else."

"Jaime – Dr. Lannister? What the hell was he doing there?!"

"Ssshhh!" Sansa hissed. The elevator dinged open and Sansa pulled him with her out of the dorm to the outside and then into the parking lot – away from eyes and ears.

Sansa can feel Jon practically vibrating with suppressed rage. "What the fuck is going on, Sansa?"

She told him about the party, how Ramsay was all hugging her and getting in her space and she told him to back off. "Then Theon came over to tell him something and he and Ramsay went off together. I decided to leave and I hadn't gotten very far when Ramsay came after me. He was drunk, slurring his words, and going on about how he's always nice to me and I just find ways not to talk to him. I told him I just wanted to go home and he asked me to come back to the party and we'd find a quiet place to talk 'or whatever'."

Sansa was pretty sure the vein in Jon's forehead was going to erupt.

"I told him no and he grabbed me and started saying I was a tease and he wouldn't let me go. He got in my face, all angry and just would not let go. Then he started to pull me back to the house and I was trying to just get him to release me and he wouldn't. Finally, he did and then I fell down and he started coming after me again and then Jaime drove up."

"He drove up?"

"Yes, he was just, I don't know, passing by in his car and must have seen me and Ramsay – and thank God he did. Ramsay ran off like the chicken shit he is."

Jon's hands were balled into fists at his sides. "I'm going to kill Ramsay Bolton," he seethed and started to march off. Sansa ran in front of him and placed her hands on his chest. "Jon, no, no, you can't. Jaime said he'd take care of it."

"He hurt you, Sansa! He put his hands on you; he bruised you, and if Dr. Lannister hadn't shown up he could have – I'm going to fucking kill him!"

Sansa didn't know how to stop a charging bull like Jon so she did the only think she could think to do. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "You can't, Jon. You beat him up and you'll just get in trouble. Jaime said he'd take care of Ramsay. Just let him take care of that little prick. Please."

She held on tight, wishing she could somehow absorb his anger into herself. She felt his arms encircle her and slowly, by degrees, his body relaxed. She felt him press a kiss to her temple and she smiled.

"Sansa," he said softly. "Why didn't you call me?"

This part was actually the hardest to explain…

"Because I got in really late…Jaime took me to his house." She felt Jon stiffen again. "We just had a couple drinks and talked and then he took me back here."

Jon pushed her away from him, not harshly, but not exactly gentle either. He looked at her, angry again. "He took you to his house?"

Sansa nodded. "Nothing happened, Jon, I swear—"

"He had no business taking you to his house, Sansa!" Jon shouted. "He's your teacher, you're his student – he's much older than you and you are nineteen fucking years old!"

"You can't tell anyone, Jon, please? He could get into a lot of trouble—"

"As he should! What were you thinking? What if he slipped something in your drink? What if he tried to take advantage of you while you were upset? Why didn't you call me?"

"Jaime wouldn't—"

"Stop calling him that for the love of God," Jon spat. "He is your professor."

"Everyone calls him Jaime."

"I don't care what everyone does, Sansa. I care what you do."

"Yeah, I know. You made a promise to my parents and to Robb to protect me, right?" Now she was angry. "Well, guess what, you weren't there last night and Jaime was."

He looked at her as though she'd slapped him. He pursed his lips together and just looked at her. "You're not this naïve, Sansa. You must know that your precious Jaime wasn't just looking to comfort you. He wants you."

"Oh my God, he does not," she said in exasperation and threw up her hands. "And you know what? So what if he does? Maybe I wouldn't mind him wanting me. You've got Ygritte, why can't I have someone."

Jon stepped in closer to her and got in her face. "Not your professor, Sansa. Not him."

Annoyed, Sansa pushed away from him and said nastily, "Oh, grow up, Jon."

"No, Sansa, you grow up. You're acting like a child. A child that doesn't know any better."

"Fuck you, Jon, seriously, fuck you."

He stormed off then, leaving her standing there shaking in anger and hurt and then dissolving finally into tears.