He awoke screaming. The taste of blood was in his mouth and the scent of it in his nose. He threw the furs aside and ran across the room, where he promptly vomited into the chamber pot. When he finished retching, he realized that something was wrong. He gingerly touched his chest, remembering the sword that had been shoved into his heart. He gagged again, but there was nothing left inside for his stomach to bring back up. He eventually slumped to the floor, shaking. He remembered dying at the Twins and yet he was alive.

He looked around the room, clutching anxiously at his tunic. It took him several minutes to realize where he was. Winterfell... I'm home... how? He heard a knock at his door and opened it to see Jon staring wide-eyed at him.

"I heard you scream," his brother said. Jon looked just as confused and lost as Robb felt.

"I..." What exactly was he supposed to say? That he died? That he didn't know what was going on? "This may seem strange, but what is the date?"

Jon shook his head. "Would it seem strange that I don't know either?"

Robb exhaled slowly, anxious, hoping. "When was the last time you saw me?"

He seemed frightened, disturbed. "When I left Winterfell to go to the Wall. That was the last time that I saw you. You died..."

Robb closed the gap between them and embraced his brother tightly. "I did," he choked out. "The last thing I remember was being stabbed through the heart at the Twins. What happened?"

"I don't know." Jon pulled back, fear in his eyes. "The last thing I remember was watching an army of Others and their wights swarm the Wall. We were losing. It didn't matter what sacrifices we made, we were dying. Then I awoke in my bed at the same time I heard your screams."

"The Others?" He regarded his brother with disbelief and then laughed. "Here I am questioning the existence of the Others when we both know that I died, and yet here we are, at home in Winterfell."

"Some time in the past I think, with how young you look." Jon walked to the window and stared outside. Robb joined him. Everything in the yard looked exactly as Robb remembered. "I forgot what Winterfell looked like without the snow and ashes," Jon whispered.

"When Theon burned Winterfell you mean." Robb was suddenly angry. If they were somehow in the past, then Theon was somewhere in Winterfell at that very moment. Robb wanted nothing more than to run his one time friend through with a sword. "I should never have let him go."

"That hasn't happened yet."

"We need to make things different this time," a young voice said behind them. The brothers turned to see Bran standing at the doorway, his young face solemn and grim. "Today will be the day we find the direwolves. We need to change everything, starting today."

Jon stared at Bran in disbelief. "It was you? When I died I saw the crows and the tree with your face. You did this?"

Their young brother nodded. "With help from Daenerys. It was the only way. We were losing, and with all the wars the people were starving. If we can change things now, then hopefully we can all survive."

Robb was lost, but given his situation, lost seemed like an alright state of being. "Who all remembers?"

Bran chewed on his lip, uncertain. "The three of us, Daenerys, Sansa, Arya, and Rickon, plus Melisandre, Sam, and a few others. I tried to reach as many minds as I could before the spell took us all back."

"Which people were you trying to reach," Robb questioned.

"Anyone who could help change the tide of history. I don't know if we succeeded or who all Daenerys tried to reach." Bran suddenly ran and jumped into Robb's arms. "I am so glad that you are here. I only knew that you died because Summer could feel Grey Wind die. Theon never killed us, just some other boys."

Robb squeezed his brother tightly. "A good thing you didn't die or we would never have had this second chance."

"We need to prevent the execution today," Bran muttered sadly, extracting himself from his brother's arms. "We need to know what he saw with the Others. We need to know their plans now, before winter comes. We need there to be one more full harvest before winter, we only have two years until winter comes."

Robb nodded grimly. "We will have a long discussion with father in the morning. Whether or not he will believe us..."

"He will," Jon glowered. His hands curled into tight fists. "When I tell him that I know the truth about my birth he will believe me."