When Jon didn't return after a week, Caitie decided it was time to embark on a rescue mission.

She didn't exactly have a plan beyond wandering until she found him and the others, but considering how poorly Qhorin Halfhand's plan had gone, Caitie didn't think the lord commander was in a position to object.

The better part of the last three hours had been spent laying in her bedroll, thinking of ways to coerce him. She'd created a list in her mind, reciting it over and over again as she tried to ignore the cold night air around her, unable to sleep.

There were practical reasons to go after the Halfhand and his men, which she could use to her advantage. It would be bad for the Night's Watch if the Wildlings tortured them for information, wouldn't it? Or maybe Caitie could just appeal to Mormont's sense of right and wrong. He couldn't just leave them all. The Wildlings would kill them in some of the worst ways imaginable, and that was if they were lucky.

She bit back a bitter laugh. Of course Mormont could. Look at what he allowed Craster to do to his daughters. She had to force the thought out of her mind, as it made her feel sick.

Well, it didn't matter what Mormont's answer would be. If he refused, she'd just go, anyway. Find Jon and bring him back, whatever it took.

It briefly occurred to Caitie that he had said not to do anything reckless. This made her hesitate, but not for long. Jon knew her well enough to know she'd never listen.

Really, what else could he expect?

After quite a lot of effort to leave her warm cocoon of blankets, she abandoned her sleeping roll and started towards the lord commander's tent, squinting to see through the darkness. Between it and the fact that Caitie was too busy remembering her arguments to pay attention to much else, she overlooked the patrol duty nearby. Sounds of boots trudging through the foot of snow roused her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Grenn.

"Where're you going?" he asked.

She came to a stop in front of him and debated her course of action. There was no reason to lie, she decided, so she answered truthfully. "The lord commander's tent."

"Why?"

Caitie did not appreciate the suspicion in his voice. She crossed her arms and glared, not thinking to try and hide her defensiveness. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because," he said, "it looks like you're going to demand to go after Jon."

Caitie stifled a sigh of exasperation. She should have anticipated resistance from her friends. Sam must have figured her plan out and told the others to stop her. Either that or Grenn was sharper than he appeared.

Well, it didn't matter how he knew. All that mattered was getting to see Mormont and finding Jon—preferably alive.

"So what if I am?"

"Well, that's stupid," he said. Caitie pursed her lips but said nothing in response, mostly because she knew he wasn't wrong. "What—you're going to save him," Grenn continued, "all by yourself?"

She bristled at the condescending tone. "No, that would be stupid. I'm going to ask the lord commander to send a search party." She omitted her back-up plan, but Grenn didn't need to know that.

"He'll never do it."

Caitie had little of an argument for him, so she just scowled.

"Look," he said, "I get it. You want to find Jon. I want to find him too. But if we do that, we die."

"I don't care." Jon was her best friend. And Caitie knew he'd risk his life to find her if their roles were reversed—how could she leave him behind?

When Grenn didn't move, she snapped, "Would you please get out of my way?"

He gave her a once-over, completely unintimidated. Caitie wished she were taller.

"You've never lost someone, have you?" he said.

The comment caught her off guard. But Caitie was also sure they'd already had this conversation. "My mother died when I was six, remember?"

"That's not what I mean."

She tapped on her arm with her finger impatiently. "Then what do you mean?"

"It's one thing to have someone die," he said after a moment. "It's something else to lose them."

"I don't follow."

Grenn frowned, thinking hard. Then he made up his mind about something and spoke. "I don't know where my parents are. They could be alive; they could be dead. I don't know. But the shit part isn't that they might be dead—it's not knowing. I got over it eventually. You will too."

It took her a moment to understand what he was trying to get at.

"So, what? I'll just suddenly stop caring about people—about my friends?" She shook her head. "I don't want that."

"Why not? It's easier."

Being indifferent when the people she cared about were hurting or dying? That wasn't easy. That was heartbreaking.

She didn't say that to him, though. There wasn't much point.

"It's just... not who I am."

Grenn didn't reply. He only stared at her through the darkness, as if he was trying to figure something out. Just when Caitie's nerves were about to get the better of her, he chuckled. "Yeah, I should've known that."

She had to suppress a sigh of relief.

But then, Caitie thought back to their first meeting with Sam—how Grenn was more concerned with looking like a coward than helping someone who needed it. Her nerves disappeared, replaced with curiosity.

"Do you really not care about anything?" she asked, omitting the but yourself at the end.

He didn't answer straight away as he processed her question. Then, "I try not to think about it too much."

If not for the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice, Caitie would have made a snarky comment. But instead, she softened. She had an inkling that Grenn cared more than he wanted to admit.

Though maybe she was only projecting.

"Do you ever think about them? Your parents, I mean."

"No," he said.

"But you used to."

Uncertainty crossed Grenn's features, but he answered the question. "Yeah, I did. A lot."

So she hadn't been projecting.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?"

"Because it's not fair. None of this is."

"When's anything fair?" Judging from his tone of voice, Caitie could tell Grenn didn't want to talk about his feelings any longer.

Not knowing what else to say, she blurted—against her better judgment, "My older brothers are fighting in the war back home. Last I heard, they were okay, but…"

"But you don't know."

She nodded, trying to blink the tears out of her eyes at the thought of so much uncertainty. "And honestly? Part of me is afraid of finding out." Talking about Caitie's family made her feel heavy—the danger seemed so real when she spoke about it—but once the words were out, she couldn't stop the rest. "I can't protect them," she said. "I can't protect my younger brother or Jon—I can't even protect myself."

Caitie wanted to scream. She felt so powerless all the time, and she hated it. She was furious at Jon for going off to put himself in danger where she couldn't help him, just like Owen and Cerys had done.

The sudden anger at her brothers surprised her. But that's what Caitie was—angry they'd packed her off to Castle Black, and angry they'd left Arthur alone to fight in the war. The logical part of her mind knew none of it was their fault, she knew she should be grateful for what they'd done for her. But it didn't stop the feelings from bubbling to the surface.

Owen, Cerys, Jon—they could all die, and she had no way of stopping it. It was the anger of powerlessness.

"Caitie?" Grenn said.

She realized she must have been silent for longer than she thought. "Sorry, what?"

"You stopped talking."

"I was thinking."

"You do that a lot."

Caitie couldn't help laughing. "I think most of us do."

He grinned, a little sheepishly, but then grew serious. "What do you mean, you 'can't protect yourself?'"

Well, that was a good question, wasn't it?

But Caitie couldn't tell him the truth of the matter, so instead, she went with, "Look at where we are, Grenn."

He snorted. "Yeah, fair enough. Piss-end of the world."

There was a pause before all her emotions crashed down around her, and she finally came back to reality. "I won't go after Jon."

In truth, she had always known her plan was ridiculous. She had no other choice than to wait, whatever the outcome.

"Good," Grenn said. "Wouldn't want you dying, too."

Caitie must have been imagining it, but she could've sworn she'd heard a note of genuine relief in his voice.

It made her feel all warm and tingly.

"I should—" she started, pointing her thumb over towards the horses. Best to get out of there before she did something stupid, such as telling him her real identity.

Caitie began to turn away.

But then she decided there was one more thing she had to say.

"Grenn? Thanks."

Whether he realized it or not, Grenn had just shared something very personal with her. And it meant a lot—more than a lot, if she was honest—considering Grenn never liked to talk about his past, or about emotions in general. She just... wanted him to know she appreciated it.

Unbidden, she realized she wanted him to know more than that. But for now, she could live with appreciation.

He seemed surprised at her thanks, but not unhappy. "You're welcome."

The two of them shared one last look. And then, before he could say anything else, she fled.

Once alone with only the horses for company, Caitie kept occupied with trying to force herself to think optimistically.

Maybe Jon was only delayed by the snows or the wounded. It hadn't been long enough to assume the worst. And even if they had gotten captured by Wildlings, it didn't mean he was dead. Jon was extremely handsome—he could probably charm his way out of being tortured and killed if he was willing to try.

The thought of Jon seducing a bunch of Wildling women should've cheered Caitie up, but it didn't. It just made her stomach sink even further.

She spent the hours until morning bouncing back and forth between fear and anger, finally deciding that if Jon died, she would bring him back from the afterlife just to kill him again.

I really don't remember if Grenn got character development in the books, but in the show, he did not. So I gave him some.