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i. let’s step outside and see what explodes
At this point, it’s about as common to see Theon Greyjoy in the Stark house as it is to see Robb. It’s just a fact of life that Arya has accepted, like how she knows Jon’s two loud redheaded friends add to the collection of red hair at the dinner table twice a week and how the Reeds will be in the living room with Bran every afternoon and how Joffery Baratheon is a dick no matter what Sansa says and how Gendry always waits at the end of the day to walk her home. Fact of life.
Arya’s young, at nine, she knows that, and she knows that there are a lot of facts of life that she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand how Jon’s collection of friends is wide and varying and he calls all of them his best friends, not just Sam, and they all love him even though he’s all dark and broody. As opposed to Robb, who’s perfectly personable and the golden child and yet he chooses to spend all of his time surrounded by Theon Greyjoy, who has been nothing but trouble as long as Arya has known him (which is pretty much her whole life).
Not that Arya can judge him. She spends all her time with Gendry and Hot Pie and Lommy, and gods know her parents disapprove of at least two of the three of them at any given time.
So it’s common to have Theon in the house, and it’s common to hear Theon’s voice carrying from Robb’s room, and it’s common for Theon to tease her every chance he gets. She gives it back just as good, which is why he only teases her and Jon, because they both give it back. He’s stopped being a dick to Sansa and he’s never really been a dick to Bran or Rickon, but he still teases her and she doesn’t mind.
Which is why she’s completely perplexed (a new vocabulary word she’s supposed to memorize for the test this week) when Theon offers to help her with her project for the science fair after a week straight of her complaining about how she can’t get the mixture for her model volcano right.
“You’ve blown up the kitchen eight times, dear,” her mother says patiently.
“It looks excellent every time,” her father agrees.
“But it’s not perfect,” Arya insists. She needs it to be perfect- she has to win the science fair. Not that there’s a prize, other than a ribbon, but Gendry got second place last year when he was in third grade and Arya wants to prove she’s better than him.
It’s Saturday night and the fair is on Friday. She looks desperately around the table- Sansa is at her best friend Margaery’s house sleeping over. Bran and Rickon are too little, obviously. Jon has Ygritte and Tormund and Sam and Gilly over, all at once, because they’re marathoning a new TV show that her mom won’t let her watch. Which leaves Robb and-
“I’ll help,” Theon offers.
“You will?” Arya asks doubtfully. She sees the look her parents exchange, too.
“Yeah, course,” Theon says. “Robb?”
“I’m shit at science and you know it,” Robb says. Their mother smacks the back of his head.
“Language at the dinner table,” she scolds. “Theon, you don’t have to-”
“Nah, I won the science fair in third grade,” Theon says. “We’ll make the perfect volcano, Arya. No way you’ll lose.”
Theon comes over every night the rest of the week, not that that’s out of the ordinary, but what is out of the ordinary is that he hangs out with her instead of with Robb. Well, Robb is with them, too, claiming to be supervising. As if she needs supervision. Theon, though, definitely.
The first three nights yield failure. The color is all wrong and the texture doesn’t look right and then the volcano itself gets ruined because of how many times they’ve set off their explosions in it. The fourth night they’re banished to the backyard so that they stop making messes in the kitchen. The fifth night- Thursday night, the night before the science fair- they stay up until it’s perfect.
Robb has fallen asleep in a deck chair, but he put in some good work on painting the new volcano, so Arya supposes she’ll let it slide. Theon is still meticulously mixing ingredients together.
“Okay,” he says, holding out a cup to her. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she agrees, and she pours the two together.
Immediately, the result is perfect. She and Theon whoop with joy, they’ve gotten it, they’ve gotten it! She actually hugs him before she realizes what she’s doing, and Theon ruffles her hair. She shoves him off and they set about making the mixtures for the next day.
The seventh graders come to the third grade science fair. Or at least, Robb and Theon come to the third grade science fair, they might have snuck out, who knows. But they watch her demonstration while it goes perfectly, just as planned, and it’s the two of them and Gendry and Hot Pie and Lommy and her parents who took off work to be here that she hears cheering the loudest when she gets the first-place ribbon.
Theon comes with them to their celebratory dinner that night. Normally he doesn’t come with them when they go out to eat, but either her father incorrectly counts the number of kids in the car (what with Arya dragging Gendry along), or her mother is letting it happen because Theon’s been actually helpful.
“Show it off, then, Arya!” someone at the dinner table cries, and she proudly holds up the first place ribbon that she won.
“Proud of you,” Theon says as they all trample back to the car later that night. He ruffles her hair again, and in a rare moment, Arya throws her arms around him.
“I love you!” she cries, and everyone in the vicinity laughs like she’s said something charming. But Theon is looking at her with a look he normally just gives to Robb, and he doesn’t say it back, but Arya knows he’s thinking it.
ii. don’t come home/sad little world
Bran hasn’t felt very much like Bran lately.
He supposes that’s normal. The doctors tell him that’s normal. The doctors tell him he might never be normal again, never feel like Bran again. He doesn’t like the prospect that much- he quite enjoys being Bran. Second-youngest child, able to get away with so much, always so loved.
But now he’s never going to climb again, which is a rather unfortunate prospect. He’s never going to run, either, and probably never going to walk. The doctors say with intensive physical therapy and expensive mobility aids, walking may be possible, but for the foreseeable future, he’ll be confined to a bed. A couch. A wheelchair. He’s not fond of the prospect.
He’s ten years old and he’s started having dreams. He had a lot of dreams, after he fell, or maybe while he was falling. And then he woke up and he forgot a lot of them, but not all. His mother was sitting next to him, holding his hand, and he stared at their joined fingers for a long time before she noticed he was awake.
Everyone’s been by to see him, at this point. Meera and Jojen come by every day after school, bringing him homework and catching him up on what he’s missed. His parents have a rotation, one of them always there with him in case he needs anything. His siblings come as often as they can, and half the time they bring their friends, who have always been good at cheering Bran up.
Today, Robb has brought Theon. Not the first time, Bran’s been here for three weeks now as they make sure he’s properly stabilized or whatever that means. But this is the first time that Robb and Theon have been here that Bran has felt particularly un-Bran-like. Everyone else has seen it, at one point or another, as his gaze goes unfocused and he starts thinking about things that maybe didn’t happen or maybe did, a long time ago, or maybe will, a long time from now. Sometimes, if it happens while he’s asleep, he thrashes, or so his father tells him.
But he’s awake now, joking around with Robb and Theon while his father types rapidly on his computer, and he goes somewhere else. Just for a moment, he’s a dog in the snow, barking at something that he can’t quite see. Bright blue eyes stare at him through the fog and he snarls and then his eyes are opening even though they were open the whole time and Robb and Theon aren’t speaking. His father hasn’t looked up, but he’s stopped typing.
“Do you want to go outside?” Theon asks. Bran perks up at that, and for a moment he isn’t thinking about the living dead or a wolf’s head on a familiar body or twenty arrows or a red wedding or sunken ships or-
“Yes,” he says. He hasn’t been outside since it happened. He looks at his father. “Can I?”
His father purses his lips, but nods. Bran grins at him and Robb helps him into his new wheelchair, gets him situated. Bran tries not to look at his legs, tries not to force himself to use them because he knows nothing will happen. Robb seems to notice, and gives a look to Theon, who’s pushing the wheelchair.
Theon takes off running. Robb shouts something but Bran isn’t listening, because they’re moving, fast, and he whoops with something that might be joy as they race down the long, empty hallway.
They round a corner and Bran thinks for a moment they’re going to crash, but they don’t. Theon just runs them straight into the elevator, Robb close behind, and the second they’re on the ground floor and outside they’re running again.
“Why’d you do that?” Bran asks later, when Theon and Robb are both out of breath and they’ve done at least seven laps around the hospital’s huge parking lot.
“You looked like you needed it,” Theon says once he’s regained his breath and is standing upright again. “Another lap?”
“Yes.”
Three laps later, they’re back inside after Robb gets a text from their father, saying that the doctors are wondering where the hell their patient went. The doctors look like they’re going to chastise Bran, but one look at his still-grinning face seems to set them off.
They let him out of the hospital a week later. Everyone in his family seems to get the idea that Bran likes being outside. Arya and Jon and their friends all take turns running him around the parking lot. Sansa and Rickon and their mother go for much more leisurely walks with him. Once, when no one else is there, his father races him up and down the hallways.
It takes him a bit to get adjusted to normal life again. He learns to use his wheelchair and Meera punches three separate bullies over the course of a month and Osha punches two more and when one bully decides he didn’t learn a lesson, Robb, Jon, Theon, and Jon’s group of ferocious friends take turns walking Bran between classes and glaring at anyone that looks at him funny.
“Thanks,” Bran says to Theon on one such occasion, after Theon cracked his knuckles and a bully went running.
“Don’t mention it,” Theon says, and he reaches down and ruffles Bran’s hair. Bran looks up and there’s something else in Theon’s eyes. He doesn’t mention it.
iii. even the dogs stare
Alliser Thorne is being a pain in the ass again.
Honestly, Jon’s getting sick of him. Just because Tormund and Ygritte come from somewhere else doesn’t give Thorne the right to be a total dick to them. They’re fifteen, for the gods’ sake, Thorne should know better.
Granted, Thorne has been bullying Jon and his friends for a long time, and Jon doubts that’s going to change now.
“Just punch him,” Edd advises at lunch.
“Seriously,” Pyp agrees. “It would be so easy.”
“There’s probably a non-violent route,” Sam offers, ever the one for not getting into fights.
“No, I think you should punch him,” Gilly says through a mouthful of sandwich. Sam looks at Jon and shrugs. He’s going to go with whatever his girlfriend goes with. Jon respects that.
“Yeah, Snow,” Ygritte says as she sits down, slinging one arm around Jon’s shoulders. Tormund and Grenn sit down across from them, glaring daggers across the commons area. “You gonna defend my honor?”
“You’re completely capable of defending your own honor,” Jon mutters. Ygritte kisses his cheek. “Or make Tormund do it for you.”
“But I want you to,” she says, and she gives him that look that has him sighing and muttering yeah, okay, next time it happens he’ll throw a punch. Everyone looks pleased and continues with their lunch.
Jon doesn’t get to make good on his promise for a long time- a long time being a week, tops. He’s taken Bran and Rickon to the park so Rickon can run around with Shaggydog and Summer and Ghost, and Bran can make his weird creepy prophetic drawings in the sunlight instead of inside. Jojen and Meera show up shortly after they arrive, and they carry Bran around the playground, all three of them laughing.
It’s the widest Jon has seen Bran smile in a long time.
And of course Thorne is there, because why wouldn’t he be? He’s got his younger brother Olly with him, who Jon liked at first but has kind of turned into a right piece of shit when it comes to Ygritte and Tormund.
“Snow!” Thorne yells. Jon’s sitting on a bench, guarding Bran’s wheelchair and keeping an eye on Rickon and the dogs. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Piss off,” Jon replies. He sees Meera glance his way; he jerks his head and she nods and turns away. No need to get Bran all riled up, too.
“Wolf’s got claws,” Thorne sneers. “Or should I say, bastard wolf?”
“I thought I just told you to piss off?” Jon says, turning to Thorne with a glare. “Or were two syllables too many for you to understand?” A solid insult, he thinks- too bad he overheard Arya yelling it at Gendry over headset while they were playing Call of Duty, so he can’t take credit for it.
“Listen,” Thorne says. “I don’t have many problems with you. It’s your friends. The redheads.”
“Half my siblings are redheads,” Jon mutters. Half siblings. Makes no difference. They all made it known long ago that Jon is as much a brother as Robb or Bran or Rickon.
“What was that?”
“I said piss off,” Jon says louder. “There’s nothing wrong with my friends, but there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“Oh, you little-”
“Oi!”
Thorne starts forward just as a mass of grey fur comes flying from the side and tackles him. Jon is on his feet in an instant, thinking it’s one of the dogs supposed to be with Rickon- but no, it’s Grey Wind, snarling in Thorne’s face. Thorne is shouting, and Jon tries to hold back a laugh. He’s still confused- no way in hell Robb would let Grey Wind do something like that- and then he sees it’s not Robb holding Grey Wind’s unattached leash at all.
It’s Theon, smirking as he rushes over, phone out and clearly recording. Once he’s satisfied with his video footage, he pockets his phone and goes to haul the dog back.
“Grey Wind!” Theon says, mockingly scolding. “Come here!” Thank God these are the smartest dogs in Westeros and can somehow differentiate tone, because Grey Wind backs off instantly and sits at Theon’s side, tongue wagging. “I am so, so sorry, Alliser, that was totally my fault, I shouldn’t have let him off his leash.”
“What the fuck,” Thorne spits. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, Greyjoy-”
The second he’s on his feet and stepping forward, Grey Wind snarls again. Theon’s smirk never leaves his face.
“What’s going on?” Robb asks as he jogs up, a little out of breath. He takes one look at Thorne, then at Grey Wind, who sits back down as soon as his owner approaches. Then he looks at Theon, who schools his expression. “Alliser.”
“Robb.”
“There a problem?” Slowly, Robb scratches behind Grey Wind’s ears.
“No,” Thorne mutters.
“There gonna be a problem again?” Theon asks, raising an eyebrow. “Ever again?”
Jon is once again holding back laughter. Thorne is a good head taller than Theon and Robb both, and he looks scared as shit.
“No,” Thorne says.
“What I thought,” Theon grins.
They let Thorne walk away with at least some of his dignity before Theon and Jon both burst into laughter. Robb just sighs.
“I go talk to Rickon for ten seconds ,” Robb says, trying to smack Theon. Theon ducks out of the way, still laughing. “What’d you do that for?”
“Oh, come on, we all know Jon was never going to throw the first punch,” Theon says, flashing a cocky grin at Jon. “And I’m sick of Alliser’s bullshit.”
“Aren’t we all,” Robb mutters. “I’m more surprised Grey Wind likes you that much.”
Jon does not miss the look that Robb and Theon exchange, and it makes him want to gag. Yeah, sure, he and Ygritte are half dating, but he doesn’t want to think about his brother and his brother’s best friend like that.
Oh fucking well, because the universe hates him, or something, so he guesses he’ll put up with it if it makes Robb happy.
And Theon, who’s been much less of a dick to him lately. Other than sending Grey Wind after Thorne- well, Theon’s never been the best at staying out of trouble, and even if no one will say it, at least one suspension has been due to defending Jon’s honor in relation to his parentage. Theon would deny it if Jon asked, but the fact that he’s willing to do it is matter enough.
Theon and Robb stay with them at the park for the rest of the day; Bran takes off with Meera and Jojen and Theon puts Rickon on top of his shoulders, leaving Jon and Robb to walk the dogs. Honestly, Jon thinks he and Robb are getting the better end of the deal.
Rickon, who apparently saw the whole thing, excitedly tells Ned and Catelyn about it at dinner that night. Theon keeps his head down, trying to hide his grin. Even Robb is laughing as Arya shows them the video, which is all over social media by now.
“Well, at least the dog is smart,” Ned says, and there’s an outcry from his children.
Jon gets texts from just about all of his friends, and the group chat he has with them blows up with remixes of the video. Jon almost doesn’t want to confess that it was Theon that set Grey Wind on Thorne, not him, but he starts feeling guilty and tells them.
But I’ll still punch him if he does it again, he promises over text.
He runs to the bathroom after a while to brush his teeth and take his meds, only to find Theon sitting on the counter and doing the same. Brushing his teeth, that is. Theon doesn’t seem like the sort to go to a psychiatrist.
“Oh, hey,” Theon says, spitting out his mouthful of toothpaste. “What’s up?”
“Brushing my teeth,” Jon says, grabbing his own toothbrush. “Is that yours, or are you using Robb’s?”
“Gross,” Theon says, wrinkling his nose. “I’d prefer to swap spit with someone else, thanks.” Jon knows for a fact that’s not true. “This is mine. I have a toothbrush here now, your mum stopped throwing mine out.” Huh. Jon hadn’t noticed the extra toothbrush in the toothbrush holder. Granted, with the amount of kids that practically live here- “Speaking of swapping spit, you dating Ygritte yet?”
“No,” Jon says, glaring at him. “How’s Ros?”
“Dating Robb,” Theon shrugs.
“Isn’t Robb dating Talisa?”
Theon’s eyes widen, and then he bursts into laughter. “Oh, shit!” he cries. “Oh gods, oh he’s going to kill me!” For some reason, he looks joyous about this. There’s something else there- something like brotherly love, which he’s staring at Jon with. They finish brushing their teeth and Theon claps Jon on the back. The look is still there.
Jon gives the look back as best he can. He thinks Theon gets it.
iv. don’t ever get sad or the world will kill your best friend
Theon has been missing for a week now.
Robb is a mess. The whole family is, kind of, as if they’re just now realizing that Theon is one of them. Sansa has known that Theon is one of them for a long time, and that he would be an official one of them eventually, because she’s not blind. She sees how Theon looks at her older brother. She sees how Robb looks back. So it makes sense that Robb is a mess.
It had been a perfectly normal day. Sansa’s in her junior year, now; Robb and Jon and Theon are all seniors. So is Ramsay Bolton, who Theon has been dating for a few months by the time winter break rolls around. Everyone in the Stark family knows that Ramsay is bad news. Not that any of them have liked anyone Theon has dated, because usually they’re not very nice and also it makes Robb sad. But Ramsay is really, really bad news.
It started with Theon not showing up for dinner one night. Then another. Then another. On the fourth night he was with Robb and Jon, arguing with Jon about nothing in particular in that brotherly way they do these days, and Sansa didn’t think anything was amiss until she rounded the corner into the entranceway of the house and saw that Theon had a black eye.
“What happened?” she had demanded before she could think better of it. The three older boys had fallen silent. Robb looked furious, Jon sympathetic, and Theon brushed it off with an easy grin.
“My dad had another go,” he had said, like it was nothing, like they didn’t know his father hadn’t hit him ever since Robb took a punch from Balon last year and their father threatened to press charges.
He kept showing up infrequently and with more injuries until eventually he stopped showing up altogether. Robb stormed around the house muttering curses, even though Sansa knew he and Theon were still inseparable at school. One night, she went down to the kitchen for a late night snack and saw the light was already on; Robb and their mother’s voices drifted toward her. It sounded like Robb was crying. Sansa went back to bed. She didn’t need to stay to figure out why.
“It’s Ramsay,” Robb had confided in her and Jon one night, a few weeks before it happened. “He told Theon that he doesn’t want him hanging around us anymore.” Maybe that’s why Theon had been avoiding her gaze when they passed in the hallways, Sansa thought. “And he’s been-”
“Robb,” Jon had interrupted, because Robb looked like he was about to burst into tears. Sansa had hugged him and Jon had joined in and they had sat like that for a long while. Theon came over the next night, a ring of bruises around one wrist. He tugged his sleeves down when he realized that Sansa had noticed, and his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
It got worse right before it happened. Theon had showed up one snowy night, shaking like a wet cat, with blood on his face and asking if he could come in. Sansa was the only one home, Jon at Sam’s and Robb at a rehearsal and everyone else at Arya’s football game. She let him in and patched him up and got him some of Robb’s clothes to change into. Theon sunk into the sweatshirt and it was only then that Sansa noticed how thin he’d gotten.
“Theon,” she said. “Do you need help?”
“No,” Theon said, his eyes downcast. “I’m okay. Thank you.”
Sansa sat with him in the living room until Robb got home, telling him all about her and Margaery’s last date and how Loras and Renly want to do a double date with them and how they’re pretty sure that Bran is dating one of the Reeds, but they don’t know if it’s Meera or Jojen. Theon almost looked like he was coming back to himself when the door slammed open and Robb loudly announced his presence. He’d stopped short when he saw Theon and the split lip and the bandage on his forehead and dropped everything he was holding.
Sansa excused herself shortly after that, because she knew what it was like to date someone abusive and she knew what it was like to break down crying about it to the people you love. She was sure Theon wouldn’t want another person to be present for his vulnerability.
She wished, at the time, that she could do to Ramsay what her older brothers (Theon included) had done to Joffrey. Sure, she’d gotten her own revenge (she and Margaery gave the little shit food poisoning), but it was almost as satisfying to watch Robb, Jon, Theon, and Jon’s best friend Tormund beat the shit out of him. Even better was when Arya had come rushing in and broken his nose. They all got detention for a month, and they all said it was worth it.
So she wished she could get them all together and do that to Ramsay, but with Joffrey, they all knew he wouldn’t be able to take it out on her, considering Sandor ‘the Hound’ had made it his personal goal to be as protective of Sansa as possible after she yelled at a few boys for making fun of him- not to mention that her family name holds a lot of power. Theon has no such protection. Everyone knows that, even though he’s a Greyjoy, his family doesn’t give a shit about him.
Except, it seems, for his sister. Because three days after Theon disappeared from their house sometime in the night, just as quickly as he came, Yara Greyjoy was on their doorstep. Worry wasn’t a good look on her; the girl is two years out of school but her name is still infamous on the grounds. She took one look at Sansa and Rickon standing behind her. Bran rolled his way over, narrowing his eyes.
“You’re Theon’s sister,” Bran said, even though Sansa was pretty sure Bran had never seen Yara before in his life. “Yara.”
“I am,” Yara said grimly. “Theon here?”
Sansa shook her head. Yara swears.
“Robb home?” she asked once she was done cursing in five languages.
“What’s wrong?” Sansa asked, as Rickon turned and ran into the house to find their oldest brother.
“Best save it,” Yara replied. “Can I come in?”
Sansa stepped aside to let Yara in, and they lingered in the doorway until Rickon approached with Robb.
“Should probably send the little one off,” Yara said, nodding to Rickon.
“I’m ten,” Rickon said, crossing his arms. “Not two.”
“Might want to sit down either way,” she huffed, nodding to the living room. “Not to invite myself in, but you’re not going to like what I have to say.” They migrated, Arya and Jon trailing down from wherever they are when they heard the new voice. “Theon hasn’t been home in three days. Not exactly unusual, normally he’s here all the fucking time. But since our mum died, he’s always answered my texts pretty quickly. Not for the past three days, though. Your place was my last resort, thought maybe his phone died and he just didn’t charge it cause he was all distracted by Robb. But he’s not here.”
“What are you saying,” Robb had said, voice about to break.
“I think that boyfriend of his did something,” Yara said grimly. “Keeps coming home with bruises. Flinches when our dad raises his voice, he never used to do that. Told me four days ago that he was gonna tell the Bolton bastard that it was done, and now he’s gone.”
“We saw him three days ago,” Sansa said. “So it must have happened after he left our house that night. What- what are we going to do?”
“Nothing we can do,” Jon had said firmly. “We go to the police, file a missing persons report, hope that they can act fast.”
“Bullshit,” Sansa said, because she knew that’s what everyone else had been thinking. “We have to do something!” Robb looked pale as a ghost. Arya, indestructible Arya, looked like she was about to cry.
“And that’s what we do to start,” Yara said.
That was four days ago. Which means Theon has now been missing for a week. Ramsay Bolton has been at school every day, looking no worse for wear. Sansa has half a mind to call Sandor back from college to have a go at him. Every time she sees Robb and Ramsay anywhere near each other, Robb looks like he’s about to commit murder, and Jon and Tormund are right there holding him back.
The news quickly spreads. Theon’s picture is on the news, a shitty one from before his brothers died with the rest of his family cropped out. Ramsay comes up to Sansa at the end of the school day eleven days after it happened, leaning against the locker next to hers, far too close for comfort.
“What in the seven hells could you possibly want from me?” Sansa snarls at him, all pent-up rage that has been building for years. But someone messed with her family, and now they’ll pay her price.
“Careful, Miss Stark.” Ramsay flashes a grin that’s all teeth. “I have something you might be interested in. Walk with me.”
Sansa absolutely does not want to walk with him. But she slams her locker shut and she does. She sees Arya across the courtyard once they’re outside and communicates with her sister in a way they’ve picked up only recently. Arya seems to get the message, and runs off, hopefully to find Robb and Jon and then to call Yara.
She follows Ramsay to the parking lot. Ramsay pulls up something on his phone as they approach a car that is much too nice for a kid to be driving to school. She stops next to the passenger seat and she knows this is a mistake. Ramsay shows her the phone.
Live footage of a security feed. A basement. A figure curled up in the corner.
A knife at her back, pressing just underneath her backpack.
“Get in the car,” Ramsay said, voice sugar-sweet.
Switchblade in her boot. Pepper spray with the keys in her pocket. That’s enough for her to get her and Theon out of there. A plan starts forming in her mind.
Sansa Stark may not be a fighter, but she’s smart.
She sits quietly as Ramsay drives them to a house that she stalked online as soon as she knew Theon was missing. He makes her leave her backpack in the car and marches her inside. Her phone is still in her back pocket; he snatches it as soon as he spots it, ready to shove her into what must be the basement. But he leaves her keys.
“Nice try,” he says. Sucks to be him, she thinks, her overprotective parents installed a tracker that they think she doesn’t know about, one that allows the phone to be tracked even when it’s broken. He shoves her down a few steps and then slams and locks the door.
She’s running down immediately, searching for a light. It’s pitch black, but she manages to find a cord hanging from the ceiling and pulls it. The dingy room lights up, and it doesn’t take long for her to find Theon. He’s curled up in a corner, one arm dangling above his head, shackled to the wall. He isn’t looking at her. She approaches carefully.
“Don’t,” Theon says as soon as she gets too close, his head buried in his knees. “Don’t, please, don’t-”
“Holy fuck, Theon, what happened to you?” spills out of her mouth, and now Theon looks up, eyes wide. They’re cloudy for a moment before it turns into relief, then fear.
“What are you doing here?” he demands. “No, you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be safe, he said you would all be safe-”
“What?” Sansa asks sharply, but Theon is muttering under his breath, indistinguishable. She takes him in for a moment- clothes torn, covered in blood and bruises, hair matted. “Theon. Theon, look at me. Theon!”
It’s only when she yells that he snaps back in fear, but he finally meets her gaze. Slowly, she reaches up to her braided bun and slips out a bobby pin. She holds it out to him, then looks up at his chained wrist.
“Do you still know how to pick a lock?” she asks. A spark of mischief crosses Theon’s face, and he gets to work. Sansa looks for the camera, she knows it’s here somewhere, and throws junk in the basement at it until it breaks. There’s the sound of dogs barking upstairs and then chains falling against the wall and Theon standing on two very shaky legs.
“I don’t think I’m going to be much use getting out of here,” he tells her. She pulls her pocket knife out of her boot and hands it to him anyways. “Did you bring that to school? I think that’s illegal, Sansa.”
“Well, don’t complain about it. Do you know how to use it?”
“Do I- what does Arya say?”
“Stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Sansa says, threading her keys between her fingers in one hand and holding the pepper spray in the other. “Around the corner from the stairs. Get ready.”
“What the fuck is going on down there?” comes Ramsay’s voice. Theon flinches back, then holds steady. The dogs are barking again, and then there’s the faint sound of a doorbell ringing. Then furious knocking, far away. “Fuck!”
“Open the door!” someone yells.
“Robb,” Sansa says, turning back to grin at Theon.
“He shouldn’t be here,” Theon says. “He shouldn’t-”
The door to the basement opens, and heavy footsteps descend.
“How the fuck did they find you?” Ramsay is roaring before he even gets to the bottom, and the second he does, Sansa pepper sprays him in the face. Ramsay screams and lashes out, backhanding Sansa so hard she falls over. Theon is standing, hands trembling, frozen in place. Then he lets out a guttural roar that cracks and breaks, drops the knife, and tackles Ramsay to the side.
“You piece of fucking shit!” Theon yells, punching Ramsay in the face three times before Ramsay throws him off. Sansa is right there to take his place, and she gets a solid hit in before there’s the sound of what must be the front door breaking down.
“Sansa!” comes Jon’s voice.
“Theon!” That’s Yara.
“Down here!” Sansa yells, and then Ramsay’s got her by the throat. Theon scrambles forward, and there’s a sickening snap as he pulls one of Ramsay’s fingers backward. Ramsay screams and drops Sansa. She coughs and loses the plot for a moment, her gaze swimming, and when she looks up Ramsay has Theon backed up against the wall.
“Pet’s got claws,” Ramsay says, and Yara and Robb are running down the stairs now. “I thought I beat that out of you.”
“Get the fuck off of him!” Yara charges forward, and Ramsay turns and hits her. It doesn’t stop her, and she grabs his arm and pulls him back. Jon is helping Sansa up now, letting Robb and Yara do all the work. Not that there’s much work left to be done; Robb punches Ramsay in the face so hard that he probably breaks the guy’s nose. Once he’s down, Yara kicks him in the stomach a few times for good measure.
“Great, now that we’ve all got our hits in, can we go?” Jon asks. “This basement gives me the creeps and Arya’s still distracting the dogs.” His arms are still wrapped around Sansa, and she really doesn’t want him to let go. Theon’s got his back pressed against the wall, gaze a bit unfocused. He’s muttering under his breath again.
“Theon?” Yara asks carefully. Robb is closer, though, one hand reaching out for Theon’s face. Theon flinches, then looks up. Sansa can’t see her brother’s face, but the look on Theon’s is enough for her to understand. Robb reaches out and cups Theon’s face, Theon leans into it, and then his legs give out.
“Fuck,” Robb hisses. “Okay, Jon, get her out of here, time to go-”
Sansa watches him scoop Theon up before Jon does the same to her. She yelps.
“I can walk,” she says.
“Too bad,” Jon replies, grinning at her. “Payback.”
“Payback for what?”
Jon doesn’t answer her. There are police and ambulances waiting outside, looking like they just arrived, and Yara unceremoniously shoves Ramsay in a heap at the feet of the nearest officer.
“Perp,” Yara says, spitting at Ramsay. “Ask him, he’ll tell you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Ramsay hisses. Yara raises an eyebrow. The cop takes one look at Ramsay, then Sansa, then the unconscious Theon. “That wasn’t me, that was these- these crazy people-”
“That’s the missing kid,” another officer says as Robb debates handing Theon over to the EMTs. Ultimately he relents, but begins to argue about letting him ride in the ambulance. Then the officer looks down at Ramsay. “And you’re Bolton’s kid. You live here.”
Sansa, sitting in a hospital bed at the end of the day, is very relieved when the first thing her father says when he enters is that Ramsay already confessed, hoping for a plea deal.
“But if I have anything to say about it, he’s going to be going away for a long time,” her father mutters.
They haven’t let her see Theon yet. Her father tells her no one has- they’re stabilizing him, he says, even all these hours later. Granted, it took this long for them to let someone see her, and apparently they’re only letting one family member in at a time.
“Margaery’s here,” her father offers once she’s told him everything she’s already told the police. With her backpack in Ramsay’s car and the recorded security footage of Theon in the basement for eleven days and the testimonies of everyone involved, it’s a pretty open and shut case. But Margaery- “She’s a nice girl.”
“I know,” Sansa says quietly.
“Much nicer than that Baratheon shit.”
“I know,” Sansa agrees.
“I’ll send her back as soon as they let me.”
Sansa smiles at him. He leaves and sends her mother in, who hugs Sansa tightly and mutters something about her darling girl. Sansa repeats the entire story, and then visiting hours are over.
“We’d like to keep you overnight for observation,” the kind nurse tells her. “Alright?”
“Can I be put in a room with him?” she asks, and no one needs to ask who she’s talking about. “Please?”
“Sure, dear,” the nurse says, and her mother helps her walk to the room across the hall, where Theon is resting. He looks a little better, not covered in blood anymore, but the amount of bandages on his face and arms only make it that much worse.
Sansa glances back at her mother, whose lips are pursed tightly. She hugs her before she goes.
She wakes up at some point in the middle of the night to Theon screaming. There are two doctors in the room already, trying to figure out what’s wrong. A nurse tells her not to worry, it’ll be fine, and then Theon’s eyes snap open and he stops screaming.
“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t- Sansa?”
“Right here,” Sansa says. She waves, and she sees him relax back into the bed.
“I’m gonna need a shrink,” he mutters, and Sansa bursts into laughter. The doctors hesitate before they file out. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Sansa says. “I’m okay. Are you?”
“No. Thanks for rescuing me.”
“Thank you for rescuing me. ”
“We rescued each other,” Theon says with a cocky grin that isn’t quite right, and Sansa knows he’s not going to say it, but she can see the I love you in his eyes. She smiles and reaches out into the space between their beds; he does the same. They can’t quite reach. It doesn’t matter.
v. desert fox cubs play under a sky full of stars
Rickon knows full well that something changed between his entire family and Theon after he was kidnapped and tortured (because those are the words for it, he’s ten but he’s not stupid ). So he does his best to be the constant, because he knows Theon probably needs that.
He was in the hospital for two weeks. They had to amputate one of his fingers. The first time Rickon sees it, he tells Theon that he’s cool now.
“Yeah?” Theon asks. “Finally got the Rickon seal of approval?”
“Chicks dig scars,” Rickon says, something he heard on a TV show that his mom probably would’ve been mad he was watching. Robb, sitting next to him (Robb only leaves to go to school and to sleep at home, because the doctors refuse to let him sleep in the hospital), snorts. Robb’s scrolling through his phone and holding Theon’s other hand, the one that has all the fingers. Yara is sitting on the other side of the bed, out cold- she’s also refused to leave the hospital except for when she absolutely has to.
“Well, I’ll have plenty of scars,” Theon says. He’s still joking, but Rickon doesn’t miss the way that Robb goes still. He continues scrolling a moment later, but Rickon sees that Theon noticed it too, and the room goes quiet.
Rickon doesn’t see Theon again until they release him from the hospital. Theon’s taking up residence in Robb’s room, for the time being, the Starks all insisted. Well- Robb and Sansa insisted, and the rest of the siblings joined in, and their mother agreed that yes, Theon needed to be surrounded by family, and Yara doesn’t have the room in her studio apartment.
So they hold a big party (read: just them and Yara and some of Theon and Robb’s friends) when Theon gets home, and Theon jumps at the noise but hides it easily. Rickon only sees it because Rickon is squinting right at him, trying to assess if the holding hands with Robb thing is new or if that was something they did before, too.
He thinks it’s new, because once they realize what’s happening they both drop their hands hastily. Rickon spends most of the night with Shireen, who his parents let come, thank the gods. He has a crush on her but Arya says it’s not a real crush because he’s ten years old, but he thinks that if he and Shireen stay good enough friends then one day he’ll ask her to marry him.
Which is how all best friendships should go, he thinks. Jon has Ygritte and possibly Tormund and Sansa has Margaery and Arya has Gendry, even though they deny that they’re together, and Bran has Meera or Jojen (Rickon’s still not sure which of the Reeds Bran is dating, but he knows it’s one of them) and Robb has Theon, even if they don’t know it yet.
When the party is done and most everyone has cleared out, Rickon wanders through the backyard. Arya is flat on her back, staring at the stars and definitely holding Gendry’s hand. Bran has long since gone upstairs with his friends. Sansa and Margaery have disappeared, probably to have sex, or something (again, Rickon is ten, not stupid). Jon and his massive friend group are where Rickon expects to see Robb and Theon, but they’re not there. Yara is, though, and Rickon thinks they might be playing a drinking game while his parents supervise nearby.
He wanders inside and upstairs- it’s late, and he’s tired, and he’s ten so his bedtime is still early and it’s well past that bedtime by now. Theon’s voice is drifting from Robb’s room.
“Hey,” Rickon says, not bothering to eavesdrop. Theon startles, and Rickon feels bad, a little bit. “Do you need a toothbrush? I got one from my last dentist visit that I haven’t opened yet.”
Robb shoots him a grateful look behind Theon’s back. Rickon just waits for Theon’s answer.
“Sure,” Theon says, a bit choked up. Rickon pretends he doesn’t notice.
“Cool,” he says. “It has dinosaurs on it.”
“Even better,” Theon says, and the I love you goes unspoken but Rickon is ten, not stupid, so he knows Theon is thinking it.
“I’ll leave it on the counter. Love you,” he says nonchalantly, and he goes to dig the toothbrush out of the bathroom cupboards.
vi. asleep on the church steps
It’s not until her oldest boys are eighteen that Catelyn realizes perhaps she had three oldest boys all along, not just two.
Robb tells her she’s not allowed to look at Theon with pity, because he doesn’t like it. Catelyn doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not pity, it’s regret. Regret that she was a bit too harsh on him, that she never really trusted him around her children, that she didn’t treat him like she treated the best friends of the others.
She knows there’s nothing she could have done to stop what happened to that boy, but sometimes she wishes there was. Instead, she does her best to make her home a loving environment. Which, she supposes, it always has been- it was just her, trying to catch up.
Her oldest boys are in their last year of school before university, now. She’s unbelievably proud of all three of them. Robb, her first born, who has always had all of her love. Jon, who is not hers by blood but whom she loves just the same, who she makes an effort to tell that she’s proud of him and hugs him tighter than she used to. Theon, who was hesitant to accept her kindness at first and for good reason, but now offers her the same smile he gives to her children, one that is full of something that might be love.
All of her children are growing up. It scares her, sometimes. What scares her more is that she’s not just watching her children grow up but their best friends, too, who have somehow found a home in the Stark household. She’s not quite sure why, but seeing them grow up has been just as painful as her own children.
She talks to Ned about it, one night. It’s a week before the boys go off to university, the three of them in the same place, somehow, along with a collection of their other friends. They’re going to hold a party that weekend. She’s pretty sure something big is going to happen- that’s what Bran mentioned to her, at least, offhandedly. She’s found that when Bran makes predictions, he’s usually right.
So she tells Ned while they’re laying in bed, who smiles at her, reaches out to cup her face in one hand. She leans into it.
“Aye,” he says. “They’ve grown up. All of them.”
“Not Rickon,” she says. “He’s still a baby.”
“I don’t know if Rickon’s dating Shireen Baratheon or Lyanna Mormont. He seems to go back and forth every week,” Ned points out.
“Maybe he’s dating both of them,” Catelyn says, attempting to shrug. “Jon doesn’t seem to have a problem handling two.” Because of course she and Ned know that Jon is dating both Ygritte and Tormund, and the two of them are dating each other, she’s known for a while now. It bothered her at first, but she quickly got over it when Ned showed her a picture of the three of them asleep on top of each other in the living room.
“He’s eleven,” Ned says. “Give him time. Sansa, on the other hand…”
“At least it’s not Clegane,” she huffs, because while Clegane was plenty loyal he was also three years older than Sansa and swore like a sailor. “Margaery is nice.”
“Margaery gave Joffrey Baratheon food poisoning,” Ned reminds her.
“In defense of Sansa!”
“Fair enough. What about Arya, then?” Ned asks.
“Gendry is your best friend’s son.” Catelyn is smiling now, teasing. Ned huffs at her and flicks some of her hair.
“My best friend’s bastard, you mean.”
“Jon’s a bastard.”
“Point,” he concedes. “Though I’m still not sure if they’re actually dating yet.”
“Oh, they are,” Catelyn says. “They’ve got to be. Right?”
“I mean-”
“I told you I caught them snogging, didn’t I?”
“No!” Ned looks at her, aghast, and she laughs.
“They stopped as soon as I walked in the room. Gendry was very apologetic.”
“And Arya?”
“Smug.”
“Figures.”
They both laugh at that. There’s the distinct sound of yelling coming from the room next door- Bran’s- that quiets down almost instantly.
“Which of the Reeds is spending the night?” Ned asks.
“Both of them.”
“And we still don’t know-” He cuts himself off, and Catelyn laughs.
“No,” she agrees. “Honestly I doubt we ever will. Bran’s not the type to get married and he brings them both along to every family function anyways. We’ll never figure it out.”
“Damn.”
Creaking in the hallway; someone trying to be quiet. Not one of their own children, who have no respect for the quiet hours of the night. Must be Theon, then.
Catelyn is up and at the door without a second thought, Ned close behind her, probably more out of curiosity than anything else. She throws the door open and Theon, just past the doorway, freezes before turning around.
“Sorry, Mrs. Stark,” he whispers. “Was I being too loud?”
“No, dear,” she says, and reminds herself of the promise she made to Robb. No pity, no regret. “You’re fine. I just- I wanted to thank you. For always being so good to Robb.”
“Oh,” Theon says, looking more than a little surprised. “Um. Of course. Robb’s my best friend.”
“I’m sorry,” Catelyn says, and she thinks she’s so much like her children in that the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. “For not being good to you in return.”
“It’s alright, Mrs. Stark,” Theon says with a sheepish grin. “I’m hard to love.”
“No,” she says, and it feels like her heart is breaking a little bit. “You’re not.” She opens her arms, just a bit, and sees Theon hesitate before he takes a few tentative steps and accepts the hug. “I know you love Robb,” she says softly, and she can feel the way he tenses up. “And I know Robb loves you. It’s not because of that that we love you. We don’t need our children to love you for us to love you, too.”
Ned rests a hand on Theon’s shoulder as the boy pulls back, nodding to affirm everything she just said. There is something about Theon Greyjoy and the things he doesn’t say, Catelyn thinks, but that he makes so plainly clear. He’s a boy with walls built up around him but sometimes he gets that look in his eyes that clearly says love in a way that doesn’t have to be spoken.
“Thanks,” Theon says, and he looks a bit like he’s about to cry. “Um- thank you. I’ll just- yeah.”
He turns and goes the way he came, back to Robb’s room. He doesn’t say it back. He doesn’t need to.
i. and so peter dances
Robb Stark is six years old when he first meets Theon Greyjoy.
It’s the first day of the new school year. Theon is new, which is an easy thing to be when you’re six. Robb didn’t have many friends- he tended to keep to himself, and when not by himself, he would trail behind Jon, as opposed to the other way around when they were at home or with their family.
But on the first day of the new school year when they are six years old, Robb Stark meets Theon Greyjoy, and immediately decides that he has a new best friend.
“Why do you want to be friends with me?” Theon demands as they swing on the monkey bars.
“Because you’re nice,” Robb replies, and Theon laughs, like it’s some kind of joke. But they stay friends, even though his mother tells him not to get too attached and his father mutters about Balon Greyjoy and his older boys. He starts bringing Theon around to the house without asking his parents for permission, because Theon’s father doesn’t care where his son goes, and Robb knows Theon would be well fed at the Stark household if not well received.
When they’re eight years old Theon starts showing up to school with bruises that he pretends are from fights. Robb knows better. When they’re ten years old Robb is pretty sure he’s in love with Theon, but he’s never going to say anything about it. When they’re twelve years old Theon helps Arya win her science fair with a volcano. When they’re fourteen Theon races around the hospital parking lot with Bran in his brand-new wheelchair. When they’re fifteen Theon sets Grey Wind on Alliser Thorne.
When they’re sixteen years old, Robb is over at the Greyjoy house in a rare moment. He never goes over to Theon’s because of Balon, and Balon is supposedly away on a business trip, so they’re taking advantage of the empty house to loudly complain about the asshole teacher who insulted Robb earlier in the day. Then Balon comes home, and doesn’t seem to give a damn that Robb is there, because he’s yelling and Theon is standing there like he’s bracing himself for a hit.
It doesn’t land- Robb steps between Theon and his father and Balon’s fist lands squarely on Rob’s jaw. There’s silence from all three of them, for a moment that lasts an eternity, and then Balon seems to realize what he’s just done. Robb grabs Theon’s hand and runs out of the house, straight to his father. Ned calls Balon and immediately threatens to press charges. Theon doesn’t show up with another bruise from his father again.
No, instead he starts showing up with bruises from Ramsay fucking Bolton, who Robb is pretty sure is the worst person in the entire world. And he doesn’t just think that because he’s in love with Theon, he thinks it because Ramsay fucking Bolton is genuinely the worst person in the entire world. All of his siblings agree- or at least concede that it’s a tie between Ramsay fucking Bolton and Joffrey Baratheon, who is also quite bad.
When they’re seventeen- well, when Theon is seventeen, barely, and Robb is still sixteen- Theon goes missing. For eleven days, Theon is missing, and then Arya is running up to him and Jon at the end of the school day saying she saw Sansa getting into Ramsay fucking Bolton’s car.
Robb’s dialing Yara’s number without a second thought, telling her to meet them at the Bolton house, and then he’s stepping on the gas as hard as he can. They make it there in record time, Arya leaning forward from the backseat and clinging onto both his and Jon’s headrests, telling him to go faster.
Yara pulls up on a motorcycle right after they do. They can hear dogs howling in the backyard and none of them waste any time- Arya goes running for the fence to distract the dogs, and Robb goes straight to the front door, Yara and Jon right behind him. He pounds on it a few times, might yell something, and then with strength he didn’t know he had, he kicks the fucking door in.
“Sansa!” Jon roars as they rush in.
“Theon!” Yara cries.
“Down here!” That’s Sansa, alive, fighting.
Robb doesn’t yell anything, just charges down toward where the sound of fists hitting flesh is. By the time they get down there, Sansa is on the ground, and Ramsay fucking Bolton has Theon backed up against the wall. “Pet’s got claws,” Ramsay says. “I thought I beat that out of you.”
Robb sees red, but Yara gets to him first. Ramsay backhands her and it doesn’t deter her as she throws him off. Robb steps forward and punches Ramsay so hard in the face that he hears his nose crack. It’s very satisfying. Ramsay goes down, and Yara kicks him in the stomach a few times. Robb, meanwhile, turns to Theon.
Jon says something that Robb doesn’t hear, because Theon’s muttering under his breath about names and rhyming and Robb’s heart is breaking.
“Theon?” Yara asks. Theon doesn’t look up. Robb reaches one hand out, he doesn’t know what for. Theon flinches back, then looks at him. There’s something in his eyes that says yes and I understand and Robb cups Theon’s face in his hand. Theon leans into it, and then his legs give out.
“Fuck,” Robb hisses, diving down to catch him. He turns back to his brother and sister. “Okay, Jon, get her out of here, time to go-”
He carries Theon up the stairs bridal-style, following behind Jon with Sansa and Yara with Ramsay. He gets Theon to the nearest ambulance and argues with the EMTs about letting him ride with- they concede, and he holds Theon’s hand the whole way, Yara sitting across from him. Once they get to the hospital they don’t let Robb or Yara through as they take Theon and Sansa back, and they stop Jon and Arya when they show up ten minutes later.
The four of them sit in the waiting room until Robb’s parents arrive, with Bran and Rickon in tow, looking terrified.
“What the fuck happened?” their father asks, not seeming to care that Arya and the younger boys are present.
Arya’s the one to explain everything- Yara is pacing back and forth, Jon is staring down the hallway, and Robb’s about to burst into tears. He actually does burst into tears when his mother hugs him.
They only let their parents back to see Sansa, and they don’t let anyone back to see Theon, even though Yara is immediate family and demands to be brought to him immediately. She chooses to wait in the hospital waiting room until visiting hours resume. Robb’s parents try to make him go home, and he shakes his head and sits down next to Yara and Margaery Tyrell, of all people, who says Arya texted her.
His parents don’t argue it. Must be something in his eyes.
They wait until morning, and the nurses seem surprised to see that they’re still there. But they let all three of them back, taking them to the same room where they find both Theon and Sansa. Sansa is awake and staring out the window, and she perks up when Margaery is the first to enter.
“Hey,” she says, her voice steady despite the ring of bruises around her throat. Margaery says something indistinguishable and hugs Sansa tightly. Yara goes straight to Theon’s side, Theon who’s passed out, and Robb doesn’t know if he’s even woken up yet and he doesn’t know what to do so he stands in the doorway and-
“He’s okay,” Sansa tells him and Yara both. “He was up last night, and he was up earlier. He’s just sleeping.” Yara sits down, and Robb sits on the other side, between the two beds. He goes to grab Theon’s hand and finds that one of the fingers is missing. “They had to amputate it,” Sansa says, her voice quieter. “There was no skin left on it.”
Robb, suddenly and viciously, wishes that he had killed Ramsay fucking Bolton.
He and Yara are both there when Theon wakes up an hour later. He thrashes for a moment before his eyes go wide and that’s all the warning they have before he’s yanking his hand back and shouting. There’s something in his eyes that Robb has never seen before. He’s not quite sure what to call it.
“Hey,” Yara says, in a voice much more gentle than anything Robb equates her with. “You’re okay. Theon. Theon!”
Theon’s eyes go impossibly wider and then he’s lunging into Yara’s arms. She hugs him tightly, then turns him slightly toward Robb. It takes Theon a moment to pull back, and then he breaks down into something that might be relief as Robb reaches for him. Their hug is something fierce, and Robb can feel his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you,” Theon chokes out as he retreats from the hug. “Thank you both, holy shit, you-”
“We had it under control,” Sansa says, and Theon sends her a grateful look.
Robb only leaves when his parents make him, which is to go to school and to sleep at home. When Theon is let out of the hospital, he and Yara are right there with him. Robb, figuring Theon won’t like a surprise, tells him that there’s going to be a party. Theon still jumps when everyone cheers as they walk through the door.
When they’re seventeen years old, Theon starts sleeping in Robb’s bed, like they did when they had sleepovers when they were young. They’ve got a pull-out mattress under the bed that they never use and that Robb is sure his parents know they never use, but neither Ned nor Catelyn ever says anything about it. Robb sleeps with Theon in his arms and calms him down when he wakes up near screaming and holds him as tight as he can.
When they’re eighteen years old, Theon goes out for a glass of water and comes back two minutes later with tears in his eyes.
“I think your parents finally like me,” he says, and Robb nearly bursts into tears, too.
A week after that they have a graduation party. His parents say it’s for Robb and Jon and Theon, all three of them, and Theon nearly cries again. All of their friends are there, and a lot of family members, and all of their siblings’ friends who have turned into family.
It’s easy to see when Theon gets overwhelmed- he catches Robb’s eye and murmurs something to Yara and her girlfriend Dany and meets Robb in the middle.
“Want to get out of here?” Robb asks.
“Please,” Theon says.
They don’t go far- just to the front porch- but it’s far enough away from everything else. Theon reaches out wordlessly, palm upturned, and Robb takes his hand. The one missing a finger.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” Robb says.
“That’s not true.”
“Maybe not.” Theon smiles at him, and Robb grins back. “But you’re pretty high up on the list.”
“Oh, so I made the list?”
“Theon.”
They both fall quiet.
“I think I love you,” Robb blurts out. Theon looks up at him with something that might be alarm. “I mean- fuck, no, yes- what I mean is I know I love you, I didn’t mean to say it, I-” Before he can backtrack, Theon squeezes his hand. He’s still smiling, one chipped tooth glaringly obvious, and Robb has never cared less.
“Robb,” Theon says.
“Let me finish,” Robb says hastily, and Theon nods. “If you’re not- not ready , or whatever, that’s fine, and if you are then great and I’d really like to kiss you, and if you don’t want that then I’d like to hold your hand or at least be close to you forever, or as long as you’ll let me, because I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“This is assuming that I’m also in love with you,” Theon points out. Robb’s grin doesn’t falter, because Theon is still smiling.
“I know you’re in love with me,” Robb says. “Everyone knows you’re in love with me, just like everyone knows I’m in love with you. Can I kiss you, please?”
“So impatient,” Theon says. He stands up, still holding Robb’s hand, and pulls him up, too. “And I thought I was so subtle. How long have you known?”
“That I love you? Since we were ten years old. That you love me? Earlier today. You?”
“Earlier today?”
“Yeah, we woke up and you, with your impenetrable walls, snuggled closer to me.”
“Disgusting. Can’t believe I did that.”
Robb laughs and repeats the question. “You?”
“Since we were nine. For me, at least. I think I’ve always known, though. And I think I’ve always known that you love me, too.”
“Disgusting,” Robb agrees. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes,” Theon says, and he’s the one moving before Robb can.
“I love you,” Theon whispers when he pulls back, just a bit, enough that his words can ghost across Robb’s lips.
“And I you,” Robb replies. “And I you.”