Sandor kicked the spilled coffee cups on the floor aside with his boot, pushing past Gendry as he walked over to one of the beds and sat.
"What do you mean gone?" he asked Gendry.
Gendry felt his chest clench. "I mean. . . she's not here." he said hesitantly.
He heard Sandor exhale from the bed.
"Did you take the car when you went for the coffees? Cause it's gone." Gendry told him, combing his fingers through his thick hair.
"Shit!" Sandor whispered. "She's run off."
Gendry shook his head, turning to face the large man. "We're being followed. Last night, there was a man..."
"She told me." Sandor interupted him. "But if they'd taken her, you would have heard something. A struggle, screams, anything. She wouldn't just let herself be taken without a fight. . . She left."
Gendry shook his head harder. " No." he uttered out. She couldn't have.
"She's gone. She left you!" Sandor spat out, his words bringing a shudder from Gendry.
No.
No.
She couldn't have. It just didn't make any sense.
"Last night, she seemed fine." Gendry said, more to himself than to Sandor.
She seemed normal.
Gendry knew she hadn't really liked the idea of staying here the night, but she wasn't that against it to leave.
Nothing about her behavior suggested she might do this.
She had comforted Gendry.
She had kissed his hand...
Gendry beat himself mentally.
What did that even really mean? Nothing. Less than nothing. Since when had he given so much meaning to little gestures?
"If we leave now, we can still catch up to her." Sandor's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Maybe she just... She may come back... she may have just..."
"Just what? Gone out for a little joy ride?"
"We don't even know where she left." Gendry began to pace in the small area in front of the beds. "Did she got to Paris, and if so, why did she leave without us? Did she go back to Spain? Did someone take her? We don't know anything!"
"No one took her!" Sandor yelled.
Gendry turned to him furiously. "This is all your fault." he said stiffly, trying to keep the anger at bay.
But when Sandor's burnt face twisted into a sinister smile, he lost it.
"You led them straight to us! Things were fine before you showed up!" he pointed a finger at the sitting man.
Sandor sprung off the bed, grabbing Gendry by the collar of his shirt. "I'm so close to fucking you up!" he admitted in a suppressed tone.
Gendry shoved him back hard, swinging at his face. Sandor caught his fist in the air, twisting it to one side and headbutting into his forehead.
Gendry saw a flash of white, and grabbed onto the dresser behind him to keep from falling, using it to push himself forward and towards Sandor.
He swung a second time.
This time he didn't miss.
Sandor barely even acknowledged the hit though, and once more grabbed Gendry by the shirt, this time slamming him against a wall, knocking the air out of him.
Gendry grimaced in pain, blinking several times until he was able to focus on Sandor's face, just an inch away from his.
"You need to pull yourself together." he huffed through clenched teeth before tossing him aside.
Gendry stumbled down to the floor.
"She's going to her family." Sandor said in a more composed voice. "She's on her way home. Now, you can either come with me, or you can stay her and wait for her, and mope, and over think, or whatever the fuck you want to do. But I'm going to Sheffield."
Gendry closed his eyes and grabbed on to the side of the bed to rise.
His brow was throbbing. It seemed like anytime he took a hit, he took it on the stitches.
His thoughts trailed back to Arya, stitching him up.
She had been ready to trust Jaqen that night. Then her mother died, and something changed. Something made her change her mind.
Then Sandor came... and something changed again, and she was ready to trust him.
Rage twisted inside of him.
I'm just like them.
Like Yoren. Jaqen. Sandor.
Just someone she needed to use.
Only she found longer use for me. Until i stained my hands with blood and turned us into a target.
"I don't think she wants us to follow her." Gendry muttered out dryly.
Sandor chuckled. "I don't think she ever did. But I never needed her want or permission... I made a promise to her sister, and neither you, or Arya, or anyone, is getting in the way."
And with that, Sandor walked out the door.
Gendry felt he was gonna be sick.
He couldn't believe he had actually allowed himself to care for this girl. To actually think she cared about him.
"I've got you" his voice echoed in his head, almost like a nudge.
He felt his jaw clench as he shook his head.
"I won't let you go." he said out loud, repeating the same words he had promised her the morning she found out about her mother.
And he had meant it.
Even if she had left him, he still felt like he couldn't let her go. Not now. Not like this. Not when there was people after her.
"Fuck." he whispered in disbelief as he scrambled through the room collecting all their belongings and running out the door.
It was snowing when he walked outside, and a police car pulled in front of the hotel lobby.
Shit!
His thoughts went straight to the man in the alley. Dead. The man he had killed.
There was still a pinkish stain on his jeans.
He avoided even glancing over at the officer as the man stepped out of his vehicle. Gendry walked past the police car, his eyes sweeping the area for a car.. a taxi.. someplace he could go into... anything!
Thats when he saw Sandor, leaning into the open window of a truck, speaking to the driver.
The old man had a confused grimace on his face, and the way Sandor was waving his hands around as he spoke, Gendry could tell they couldn't understand each other.
The man shook his head, and said something, to which Sandor nodded and ran around the truck to the passenger side, yanking the truck door open.
"Sandor!" Gendry called out to him.
Sandor turned, one foot already inside the truck.
They shared a quick look, before Sandor beckoned him over with a nod and Gendry ran the rest of the way to the truck.
"He's going to Paris?" was the first thing Gendry asked as he closed the passenger door after him.
"Le Mans" the man answered in a thick French accent.
Gendry and Sandor shared a look, and Sandor shrugged.
As the car moved forward, and they drove by the hotel where one of the employees was already leading the police officer into the alley, Gendry closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cold window. And as much as he tried to push it aside, he couldn't help but feel... as they were driving up the street, away from the hotel, out of the city, and down the snowy motor way... that they were driving away from Arya, rather than towards her.
"So what made you change your mind?" Sandor's voice boomed on his right.
Gendry sighed deeply, fogging the glass under his nose.
"Yea." Sandor said, in a surprisingly sympathetic voice. "I know." he sighed, longingly. "I know."
And Gendry realized then, that they weren't so different, he and Sandor.
And that thought...well, it scared him.
xxxxxxxxxx
The phone rang twice before someone picked up. It was Alicia.
"Alicia. It's Robb!"
"Robb!" the girl cried out in anger. "Where have you been Robb? Why haven't you answered your phone!?" she demanded.
Robb closed his eyes as he swallowed down the knot that had formed in his throat.
Tears were already burning their way through his closed lids.
"I..." he began, but was cut off by Alicia's hysterical sobs.
"We heard about your mother." she managed. "Robb... your grandfather.. he's not well. And Bran..."
"How's Bran?" Robb interupted, wiping his tears on his sleeve.
"Why did you have to leave him?" Alicia asked instead, sniffing loudly.
Robb took in a deep breath. "Alicia... Listen to me."
"he's just a boy. " the girl whispered, as if lost in her own thoughts. "He doesn't have to be this brave."
Robb clasped his hand over his mouth as he began to weep silently to himself. In his minds eyes, he could see Bran.
Brave, stoic Bran. With only his eyes to betray his sadness.
Alicia was right. He didn't have to be so brave.
Not when they told him he would never walk again, or when mother told him about father's death.
Robb took in several deep breaths, calming himself. He needed to be the strong one. For Bran, and for Arya and Rickon. And Sansa.
"Alicia," he managed thickly, clearing his throat. "I need you to listen. This is very important, and I need you to calm down and really listen. Will you do that?" he asked slowly.
He could hear Alicia on the other side of the line, composing herself, and even though he felt restless to tell her what he needed to, he decided he'd give her all the time she needed.
He needed her calm, and he needed her lucid.
"Tell me." she said after a few moments.
Robb cleared his throat again, inhaling deeply. "Alicia... i think Bran and grandfather are in danger." he said, expecting the girl to start panicking.
"I do too." she confessed. "What do I do Robb?"
Robb sighed in relief. Those were exactly the words he needed to hear. Not what he expected from the young girl. But what he needed.
"You get them out of there. As soon as you can. The less they know, the better. Especially grandfather."
"He won't have it Robb." she began to argue, but Robb cut her off.
"Don't take no for an answer. He loves you Alicia. He'll listen to you... I know you can do this."
Robb heard her sigh. "Where to?"
"As far as the weather allows." Robb could feel the weight of the last two days being lifted off his shoulders.
"Alright." Alicia said in a small, but determined voice. "I'll do it. I'll do it Robb."
"Thank you." Robb whispered sincerely.
"Robb. . ." her voice broke off, "I think.. I think you should talk to Bran."
Robb nodded, but then realized she couldn't see him. "Put him on." he rasped out.
He heard as Alicia set the phone down, and he heard her footsteps as she walked away from the phone.
He could feel his throat begin to tighten, and his palms begin to sweat.
The last time he'd seen and spoken to Bran, he had made him promises that he now feared he may not be able to keep.
Robb felt so small, and so powerless.
When he'd been welcomed at Sheffield Saturday morning with the news of his mother plastered all over the media, at the station... on the front page of newspapers... He'd felt the ground under his disappear.
He'd spent two days at a pub after that, drinking one drink after another, his eyes glued on the television that hung over the bar.
And every shrivel of strength he had left gone.
"Robb." said a small, sad voice on the other end of the phone.
Gooseprickles filled his entire body.
"Bran." he said.
And the silence that followed was deafening.
Robb could hear the accusation with every second that passed without a single sound.
He wasn't sure if it was Bran who was accusing him, or himself.
"I'm so sorry Bran. I'm so sorry I left you," he pleaded in hysterics, tears rolling down aggressively down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry I've failed mom."
"Robb! Robb." Bran cried sternly over the phone. "There is nothing, to forgive Robb." he said soothingly.
Robb shook his head in awe.
Bran had always been so... incredible.
"Robb?" the small boy called.
"I'm here." Robb sniffed.
"Have you... have you talked to Sansa?"
Robb's brows furrowed. "No..."
"She called, the morning mother... Alicia lied to her, told her I was with you."
"Why would she do that?"
"Because I asked her to." Bran said calmly.
Robb felt something wasn't right. "Why would you do that Bran?"
Bran exhaled into the phone before he spoke again, and Robb was already preparing himself for whatever it was his little brother was about to tell him.
"Because I remember." Bran said sullenly. "I remember everything."
xxxxxxxxxx
Petyr put the phone down quietly on the reciever as soon as he heard Robb hang up on the upstairs line.
He hurried into his study, leaving the door open, and punching in the phone number he'd memorized last night into his mobile.
He sat on his large desk chair and and waited for an answer.
Robb could be heard walking down the stairs.
"Yes?" Cersei answered.
"We need to meet. Urgently." Petyr told her casually.
"I can't." Cersei said in an irritated tone.
"Find a way. It's important."
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait!" she snapped viciously.
Robb peeked his head into the room, knocking on the door twice.
Petyr smiled at him, and beckoned him in. "Trust me." he said into his phone, "It can't."
Robb sat himself on the leather chair infront of Petyr's desk.
"I wouldn't trust you, if you told me the sun was round." Cersei croaked.
"Silversmith's, in an hour." Petyr said, and he ended the call before she could answer.
"How are you?" he asked Robb with a warm smile.
"Better. Was that one of your contacts?" Robb asked.
"Yes. I'm meeting her in an hour."
"Shouldn't I come?" Robb suggested.
Petyr shook his head. "I'm testing her first. I need to know that i can trust her, and I think it's safer if you stay out of sight. For a while."
Robb nodded. "Yes."
Petyr turned to a drawer and pretended he was looking through some papers, waiting for Robb to tell him about what Bran had said to him.
"I... called Bran." he said after a few moments.
Petyr looked up from the drawer. "Oh, how is he?" he asked with mock concern.
"Taking it better than I expected. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not."
"He's always been a strong boy. All of you Stark children are." Petyr told him casually as he rose from his chair and closed the drawer. "I should be on my way, then. Help yourself to anything you need. The refrigerator is well stocked, even if I am an old bachelor." he smiled as he walked around the desk.
"Thank you, again. For everything." Robb stood.
Petyr patted the boy's shoulder twice, before walking out into the hall way.
He isn't going to tell me. He knows about Cersei and Jaime, and what they did to Bran... and he isn't going to tell me.
"I'll be back soon." he called back as he grabbed he slipped into his coat and grabbed his keys.
He opened the front door and turned to Robb one last time, nodding at the boy before stepping out into the cold.
He doesn't trust me after all.
Good.
As soon as he arrived at Silversmith's he ordered a drink and waited patiently for Cersei to arrive.
He felt a thrill run through him at the thought of everything that had fallen into his lap when that Stark boy had rang his door bell.
Now he just had to be smart about how he used the gained knowledge and information.
Cersei was a beautiful, very elegant woman, with too much presence and a smile that rarely reached her eyes, yet fooled most.
Most.
The woman that walked out of the cold and into the restaurant was not half of the Cersei he knew.
She looked thinner, tired and on edge.
She wore all black, and her face looked washed out, despite the makeup.
As soon as she sat down, she called the waiter and ordered a drink.
"Cersei. You look positively dreadful."
She glared up at him from behind her drink.
"Is it Robert that's given you long sleepless nights? How is he doing?" Petyr asked.
Cersei blinked back. Her eye lids were puffy. "This isn't a social call." she muttered out weakly.
Petyr smiled. "Just trying to be friendly."
Cersei sighed. "Doctors say there's not change in his vitals."
"Well, it's only been a week. Robert's a strong man, he'll make it out of this, I'm sure." Petyr offered casually.
He couldn't get over how terribly agitated Cersei looked.
"Has it really only been a week?" she asked with genuine surprise.
"A week and two days since the night."
Cersei pressed two fingers into her left temple, taking another sip of her drink. "What did you call me here for?"
"How are your children taking it? Your brother? How is Jaime. Haven't seen him in quite some time now?" Petyr asked instead, ignoring her question.
Cersei's eyes were fixed on him, and when he finished talking, she smiled. "I'm ready to walk out of here if the next thing that come out of your mouth isn't the reason why you've dragged me here for."
"Robb... Stark." Peryt pronounced the name carefully and smiled at the sight of Cersei's eyebrows shooting up in her forehead.
This was going to be fun
xxxxxxxxxx
They arrived at Le Mans a little after 11 in the morning, and the old man, who had chattered on in his broken English most of the ride, dropped them off at a small corner restaurant, so they could have breakfast.
After the hours spent on the road with that chatter box of a man, Sandor felt relieved to finally be allowed to think.
Gendry didn't seem in a mood to talk, and Sandor was grateful for it. He was honestly tired of the boy and his need to over think everything. He should have left the moment he knew the Stark girl had run off. There was no doubt he would have been better off on his own.
But alas.
They both ordered squash soup and two coffees. Sandor pulled out his flask, pouring the rest of it contents into his coffee.
He turned to glance up at Gendry.
The boy looked distracted, staring stupidly at the bowl in front of him.
He imagined Gendry was beating himself up mentally over Arya leaving.
Being completely honest with himself, Sandor thought that Arya would have left whether he had been awake or not. She was a headstrong, stubborn little firecracker.
Not at all like her sister, the little bird he left back in that cage.
He sighed, pushing the thoughts of her aside.
Remembering her only made him remember that he had not yet kept his promise to her. He still had no clue where the youngest Stark could be.
He'd been very lucky with Arya and he feared that he wouldn't have the same luck with the boy.
It nearly made him want to give up. Just drop everything and be on his way...
It was Sansa, and Sansa alone who kept him from doing just that.
And for what? What will you gain from it? Her love? You're a fucking fool if you think she'll ever see you that way.
It was this reality that made him want to push her out of his thoughts, and yet he needed to think of her whenever he felt like giving up.
It was a vicious cycle that was beginning to turn his insides to rot. Like a wound that wouldn't heal.
Sandor finished his coffee and stood from his chair, sickened by the warmth in the room and his thoughts.
Gendry's eyes snapped up suddenly, and he stood too, dropping his napkin on the table and shouldering his bag.
The icy air quickly helping with the nausea that was threatening to start. He looked around, deciding on how they'd get out of this place, when Gendry let out an exasperated sigh to Sandor's left.
"Well," Gendry said, zipping up his jacket and turning up the collar. "I'm tired of being civil." he muttered out, his breath rising in a pale puff.
He slipped a hand into Sandor's coat, and came out with the knife, running across the street, towards a white car.
Sandor was surprised to feel a smile creep into his face as he watched Gendry jimmy the car door and sit himself on the seat, reaching below the wheel.
Looking to both sides, Sandor sped walked over to the car, which Gendry had already started.
He knocked on the window twice, and Gendry reached over to unlock it.
"Better get us out of here." he said as he closed his door behind him. An old woman was already staring, hand clamped over her mouth as the younger woman besides her held a phone up to her ear.
"Now!" Sandor growled, and Gendry stepped on the gas, moving them forward.
He kept his eyes on his side mirror until they left the city behind them, and he was almost certain no one was following.
"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked as he reached besides Gendry's seat for his knife, snapping it close.
"A friend. A long time ago. He used to steal cars. I would sometimes tag along, and help."
"And now you're a cop."Sandor said sarcastically. Hypocrites! All of them!
"You're one to talk. You used to be that Joffrey kid's bitch... and now... now you're helping Sansa."
Sandor gritted his teeth at that, feeling the rage snake in the pit of his stomach.
"Even you grew tired of doing the wrong thing." Gendry said somberly.
"It's exhausting. Even when doing the right thing takes more work. You, still feel a sorta satisfaction... knowing you've done something good for someone, without expecting anything at all in return... It all, well, it pays off in the end."
"I'm sure Ned Stark didn't do anyone a single wrong his whole life... he always did the right, honorable thing... and what a reward that brought to him." Sandor said sourly.
No idiot boy was going to tell him the being good always paid off. Not when he saw how evil fiends like the Lannisters prospered and lived happily, while the Starks were's torn apart and destroyed more each day.
Everything was all a farce.
"What happened to Ned... it won't go unpunished." Gendry let out in a determined tone.
Sandor almost laughed.
He had to give him props for his spirit.
"Who knows..." he said to him, and turned to look out the window.
He had always liked the snow. Ever since he was a child.
This year though, the snow brought something dark, almost aggressive with it, that it made Sandor anxious.
He turned to Gendry, about to ask him how much gasoline the car had in it, when he saw the boy quickly wipe a tear off his face with the back of his hand.
Sandor looked away, and out the window again.
"They sure..." he cleared his throat, bashing at himself mentally for getting this fucking emotional. "They sure get under your skin... don't they?"
At first there was no answer, and Sandor felt like a fool for saying anything at all.
His insides were turning soggy. All because of that Stark girl...
Bloody asking him to fetch her siblings for her, softening him up... him, who killed for pleasure...
"Yea..." Gendry said softly besides him... almost to himself. "Yea. They do." he whispered.
And the ache in his voice made Sandor clench his jaw as hard as he could, casting aside the feelings that were beginning to stir.
What the fuck is wrong with you?!
"Thank you." Gendry mumbled out sincerely, and Sandor felt his face twist in anger at that.
"I'm not doing it for you." he barked out.
He would skin Gendry alive right now for a drink. These days it's the only thing that kept him sane.
Drinking.
"What was she like?" Gendry asked after a long moment of silence, and Sandor didn't have to ask him who he meant.
Sandor turned to the window again, choosing to ignore the question.
"I only met her once. At the station." Gendry continued.
Sandor grunted, closing his eyes. "When people first notice my burns, they look away, and never look me in the eyes again... It's easier for them that way, to just look the other way. I'm sure they lie to themselves and say they do me a favor." he paused, a spasm of anger swelling in him.
He exhaled sharply. "Sansa..." she began again, ignoring the thrill that ran through him when he spoke her name out loud. "She was the first person not to look away. The way she looked at me... It was as though I didn't even have a scar. Like she could see past the scar."
He closed his eyes.
"She always saw the best in people. Even sick monsters like Joffrey, or myself."
"She sounds like her father." Gendry said with a small smile.
Sandor let out a harsh laugh. "It made me almost hate her for it." his hands rolled into fists. "I felt torn between wanting to punish her for her faith in me and wanting to be worthy of it."
Gendry stole a quick glance his way, before turning to the road again. "If she's anything like Arya, she'd no fool... I don't think she put her trust on the wrong person."
"She's nothing like Arya." Sandor snapped, finding himself annoyed, rather than comforted by Gendry's word. "Stop at the next store or gasoline station you come across. I need a drink."
Gendry nodded, and said nothing more.
At first Sandor felt grateful.
But then his thoughts found their way back to Sansa, and he almost started small talk with Gendry... but he allowed the thoughts to take over. And he let his memories take him back to the afternoon it all happened.
Sandor had furiously stepped on the gas, feeling the rage inside consume him.
He had been such a fucking fool to believe she'd come with him. That she'd trust him with her life.
Part of him wanted to look back. It ached to, but he didn't. He kept his eyes forward.
"Fuck!" he yelled, giving in and tearing his eyes from the road ahead of him to look at the rearview mirror.
His stomach made a flip when he saw she was running towards the car. He stepped on the brakes, his body thrusting forward from the sudden stop.
Swiftly, his turned the car to reverse, and he was driving backwards, still not believing what was reflected in the mirror.
He came to a stop right besides her, rolling the window down on her side.
She was rosy faced from the run and the cold, hugging her sides and catching her breath. "I.." she managed to breath out, and it was all he needed to hear.
He turned to the buttons on his door, and unlocked her door. "Get in." he said to her.
And when he saw her close his eyes against his words, he felt a stab in his chest.
"I can't." she sobbed out.
Sandor heard a growl rise from his throat as he turned the car to "drive".
"Wait!" she said, before he could step on the gas. And he did.
Of course he did.
"Don't have a lot of time, Little Bird." he added so much acid to her nickname this time, hoping she would take it as an insult. "Spit, it, out!" he said icily.
But like always, she didn't seemed to fear him, and she leaned forward, feeding her head into the window. "Maybe you can't help me. But maybe you can help my brother. And my sister."
"What!"
"Arya. And Rickon. They're missing."
He couldn't believe she was asking him for this.
He shook his head. "The police are already..." he began, but he cut her off.
"The police? The same people that were there for my father? The police aren't doing anything, and you know it?"
"I'm sorry. I can't." he let all the anger inside of him, leak out with those words.
"You were willing to take me to my family. What's the difference between helping them and me. They actually need you!"
"I don't even know where they are!" he yelled. "You don't know where they are!"
"They're headed for Spain. I know it. Our grandfather lives near Barcelona."
Sandor shook his head. "Why don't you go to your mother, and you help her find them yourself? Why do you stay here? With Joffrey? Why do you love him?!"
Sansa shook her head at that. "I don't love him..." she said, and Sandor felt all the anger in him slowly begin to drain.
"But i loved my father, and this family is responsible for what happened to him. And I will do everything in my power to unmask every single one of them."
Realization dawned on Sandor then. This was for her father. She was staying behind, and enduring for her father.
He sighed, closing his eyes and jeering himself mentally for what he was about to say next.
"Then I'll find them, Little Bird." this time, he poured out all his heart in her nick name. "I promise, I will find them."
AN
Well, Sandor is a very difficult character to write. And to be completely honest, this was a difficult chapter to finish because of it. But I really think this was the best moment to squeeze him in. Readers needed to finally know what happened with Sansa.
I've had a heavy week, and I apologize for the very late update.
It is now, 12 28 am, and i still have homework, and i work tomorrow, so I just skimmed though this. Sorry for any bac grammar. Ill come back and correct it tomorrow, I promise.
I still need to clean up all the chapters, so expect that soon, for anyone of you who is interested in re reading everything. I know I like to do that with longer fanfics to re fresh.
Next chapter will finally have Brienne and Arya. We'll finally find out where the hell she is. As always, you're all so wonderful, and you are the reason this story is alive and kicking!
My love goes out to you all!