Sansa was no longer in the Winterfell she knew. She was in the Winterfell of the past, with her tormentor. She didn't remember her life. She couldn't remember her son, not yet. Or that Jon and her had ever been reunited, or fallen in love. She only knew fear, pain, and the deep desire to die.

She stayed in the bed, Jon at her side, for nearly a whole day. 24 hours, slowly ticking by. The screams could be heard all over the castle. Her eyes rolled as she watched the scenes she was imagining. Sometimes, she'd lay still, crying softly, and other times she'd thrash against Jon, trying to fight him off, fight her nightmares away.

After the first twelve hours, the visions changed. Ramsay dissipated, but then Sansa was forced to watch the death of everyone she loved. Her father, her mother, Robb. And then the one's who weren't yet dead, killed in front of her. Slowly tortured while she was forced to watch.

When Jon heard her say his name, he felt a rush of relief, thinking she was finally coming out of it. But then, she was still looking in the distance, begging him, and then apologizing. He realized what was happening, when it was Aden's name she muttered next.

He held her closer as she cried.

Finally, finally, she began to wind down, and could only manage sleepy little hiccups towards the end. Jon was laid beside her, holding her, exhausted. He wouldn't let himself falter, not yet. He kept reminding himself she was in much more pain than he. But seeing her so tortured, so scared. Reliving the time he promised was long behind her, and he powerless to prevent that.

He realized she was asleep, and seemed to be peacefully so. He stood, and covered her with a quilt. He left the room, intending to be quick.

"It's over." he said gruffly to Brienne, who had been waiting outside the room the whole time. He had bags under his eyes, and looked almost ten years older. "Where's Aden?" he asked.

"Still with Bran." she said. "Is she sleeping?"

"Aye." he said. "And I will be too, as soon as I get Aden. I want him to be there when she wakes up."

"Of course." she said.

Jon made his way down the catwalk, towards the other end of the castle. Bran slept in the highest tower, overlooking the Godswood.

The guard outside Bran's door opened it for Jon, and Jon walked through. Aden was curled on the floor, beside the hearth, leaning on Ghost, his thumb in his mouth. He looked up, and pulled himself upright onto his chubby legs, and ran to Jon.

"I tried to get him to sleep." Bran said from the chair he sat in the corner. "But he only could for an hour or two before he was up again. He hasn't been crying, he's just been waiting."

Jon scooped up Aden, hugging him close for a long moment.

"Mama?" Aden asked him, his brows knitted together.

"She's asleep." Jon explained. "Who did this, Bran?" he turned to his brother.

"I don't know." Bran admitted. "I can't see them. I'll go down to the tree, now that you have Aden, and I'll meditate. See what I can find out."

"Thank you, Bran" Jon said.

"Mama." Aden said again, touching Jon's face.

"Aden, mama is still sick, so you mustn't wake her up when we go back to see her." Jon said softly. "Do you understand?"

Aden nodded, and Jon was sure he would behave. Jon was so tired though, Aden was getting heavy in his arms. He set him down, and called Ghost. The wolf padded over, and bumped Aden's hand, signaling Aden to hold on to his collar. Aden gripped tight, and beside his father, walked outside of Bran's rooms and down the steps towards their chamber.

Sansa was in a dreamless sleep, relieved from her day of torture. She knew where she was, now, home, and had caught a glimpse of Jon whispering to her, holding her to his chest, right before she fell asleep. She'd come home, she'd escaped the glimmer, and now she was safe in bed. It was over. She could sleep.

Jon and Aden entered, quietly. Aden was already showing his exhaustion, yawning, and barely dragging his feet along Ghost. The moment he saw his father, his body reminded him it was safe to sleep, and now he couldn't stop the inevitable. Jon lifted him onto the bed, tapping his lips with a finger as a reminder to be quiet. Jon turned, to seek out some nightclothes for Aden. But when he turned, Aden had undressed himself, into just his small clothes and a nappy. He crawled over the bed to the sleeping figure of his mother. He pushed the blankets beside as best he could, and settled beside his mother, curling up like a pup beside her warmth.

Jon rounded the bed, and slid in on the other side, so Sansa could be completely surrounded.

Within minutes, the three Starks were fast asleep.

Sansa awoke nose to nose with her son. She blinked, making sure she was really awake, that this was really real life, and not some dream. She smiled, happier and more relieved than she think she'd ever been in her life. Happier than seeing Jon again, happier than watching Ramsay getting eaten by dogs, happier than watching Daenerys kill white walkers with a gentle swoop of her dragon.

Happiest pressed against her son, seeing his little chest rise and fall, and his golden red curls scattered about his face and pillow. Happiest that Jon was there too, waiting for her the whole time she'd been gone.

She rolled over, moving as little as possible so not to wake either of them. She just wanted to look, to bask in their lightness, appreciate their peacefulness.

Jon sensed she was awake, and his eyes shot open.

"Sansa!" he said, in a loud whisper. "Can you see me?"

She nodded, and felt tears of relief flooding her eyes.

He pulled her into his arms, rougher than he intended, but with the amount of emotion he felt in the moment. He laughed slightly, the desperate unbelieving laugh of the truly solaced. She pressed her mouth against his shoulder, letting his skin muffle her quiet sobs. She relished the feeling of his muscles on hers, such a comfort to have his arms around her again.

"Who did this to me?" she asked after he pulled away a few minutes later.

"I don't know, Sansa." he said. "But whoever it was...whoever did it...I'll kill them myself."

She nodded, brushing away the tears on his face.

"How much do you remember?" he asked.

"All of it." she said after a long moment. "I can feel it still, in my chest and on my skin. It's aching, almost."

He smoothed her hair, and then stroked her back and waist, trying to comfort her. She shut her eyes, and whispered his name to herself. Reminding herself. This would continue constantly for months after. Her little reminders, that the person beside her was not a monster, not a nightmare, but instead the person sworn to keep her safe.

"They didn't do the thing I'm scared of the most, though." she whispered. "They didn't turn you into the monster. They don't know me well enough, apparently."

"Were you worried that might happen?"

"I was worried I'd wake up and be alone. That even if you were here, saying you were going to help me, I'd think you were a monster too. I was worried they'd take me away from you, somehow. Instead, they only made it stronger. I've never been happier to be beside you, Jon." she admitted.

Aden had awoken, and was crawling over his mother's shoulder, batting her eagerly.

"Hello, my sweet." she said, smiling, rolling so Aden was straddling her belly. Jon was balanced on his elbow, and leaned over to kiss Aden's cheek, and ruffle his hair.

"Mama tired?" Aden asked, his small brow furrowed with worries.

"I'm alright now." she reassured him. "Papa's here. And my little Aden. And we're safe at home, behind our great strong walls."

"Walls safe?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, darling. They keep our enemies out."

He growled for her, and she laughed.

"You'll keep our enemies out, too, wolf-boy." she giggled.

Aden turned, and looked up at the door, as though he'd heard something. He growled again, looking at the door.

Jon saw her too, for just a flash.

The Red Woman was here.