A/N Written for the Angst Bingo prompt: Hello Again.

This whole thing was inspired by a section in an Alayne Stone chapter of A Feast for Crows:
Myranda gave her a shrewd little smile. "Yes, she was the very soul of wisdom, that good lady." She shifted her seat. "Why must mules be so bony and ill-tempered? Mya does not feed them enough. A nice fat mule would be more comfortable to ride. There's a new High Septon, did you know? Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's."

"Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised.

"Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose."

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still... with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

I.

Jon paused on the stairs, hearing the sobbing coming from the hall. Quietly he walked down to find his little sister Sansa sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest and crying her heart out.

"Sansa, what is it? Are you hurt?" he asked crouching down beside her. Although his sister was easily moved to tears, he hadn't seen this many in a long time.

"Theon told me that Father likes Arya better because she's smarter than me," she said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "Then he said since she's the smart one, I better hope I'm the pretty one but with my red hair it's unlikely. If Arya's only six and she's already smarter than me…"

"Arya isn't necessarily smarter than you. She's very clever for her age and outspoken about everything," Jon interrupted, angry that Theon made Sansa cry for no reason other than because he could. "And you all have red hair, except Arya, your lady mother included. Don't you think your lady mother is pretty?"

"My mother is beautiful! But I don't look much like her. Theon said I looked like a boy because I was too skinny and tall. Then Jeyne laughed at me," Sansa sobbed. "Why do you even care? You like Arya better than me too!"

Jon sighed and sat down beside her. "Sansa, you know that's not true. You decided that you like needlepoint and singing when Robb and I started training with Ser Rodrick. Arya likes watching us. She follows us around. You don't. But we used to all be close when we were younger, long before Arya was even walking. Suddenly, you seemed to realize you were a girl and, therefore, you couldn't spend time with your brothers anymore."

"That's true. Neither you or Robb want to do anything without a sword in your hand plus you're always sweaty and dirty."

Jon smiled and pulled her braid. "Why would you listen to Theon anyway? He's not very smart."

Sansa blushed crimson and looked away quickly. "Never you mind, Jon Snow!"

Jon watched her with barely concealed annoyance. Apparently, his little sister thought she had feelings for their father's ward. Theon was the only person at Winterfell that treated Jon with open mocking disdain other than Lady Catelyn. The only time Theon ever stopped being rude to him was when his father was around.

"Sansa, whatever you think about Theon, remember he's being mean to you because that's who he is. He thinks it's all right to mock people no matter who it hurts. He thinks he's better than everyone."

"I think he's just lonesome because he's so far from home. That's why he tries to impress Robb with how much he knows. The other day I heard him telling Robb things he shouldn't, things about women," Sansa said, her voice dropping very low. "Robb blushed and Jory yelled at Theon but he does seem to know a lot about women so perhaps he's right about me being ugly and stupid."

"He's not!" Jon said angrily. "Maybe he does know a lot about some women but he doesn't know much about ladies. And you are a lady, Sansa. One day a man, a better man than Theon, will think you're beautiful and smart and love you just as you are. And Father loves you just as much as he loves Arya, he just knows you prefer to spend your time doing things ladies, ladies like your mother, do. Arya begs him for stories of dragons and warrior queens. You prefer different kinds of stories…I can't imagine Father knows many stories like those songs you prefer."

"That's true," Sansa admitted with a nod. "But are you certain that Father doesn't love Arya more because she looks like a Stark? I look nothing like a true Stark."

Jon thought about it for a moment. He and Arya looked like a Starks, much more than any of his brothers or Sansa. "Do you think he likes me more than Robb? Because Robb looks like Tully, same as you, and Father seems to treat him the same as me."

"But you're a…I mean…" Sansa bit her lip and tears filled her eyes. Jon looked away, at the wall, a blush coloring his face. He knew he was a bastard, but this was the first time he realized Sansa knew as well. "I'm sorry Jon."

Jon rose quickly and said, "It's fine. I need to go see Jory about…"

Sansa stood up quickly and grabbed his arm. "No, Jon, listen." He stopped and looked at her hesitantly. "I know Mother isn't your mother and that's why your name isn't the same, but Robb said it doesn't change anything - no matter what you're still our brother."

"And what do you think?"

Sansa looked at him for a few moments before smiling. "I remember growing up with two older brothers. It's always been that way for me so I guess Robb is right. It doesn't change anything."

Jon nodded, glancing at his feet for a few moments, before saying, "If Theon makes you cry again, you come tell me right away. Robb and I will make sure it doesn't happen again. No one should ever make you cry."

II.

Jon was leaving Arya's room after saying farewell and almost ran into Sansa into the hallway. He hadn't said goodbye to her yet. The two of them had grown apart over the years and rarely spoke much anymore. Sansa spent all her time with her Septa, Jeyne Poole or her lady mother, three people Jon avoided, if possible.

"Oh Jon! I didn't see you," she exclaimed, stepping back suddenly. She stared at him for a moment, then chewed her lip.

"I was just saying goodbye to Arya."

A flicker of something flashed in her eyes, he wasn't sure if it was surprise or hurt, and she asked, "You weren't going to say goodbye to me?"

"Were you going to say goodbye to me?" Jon asked.

Sansa looked at him with irritation. "Of course I was. I rushed right to Arya's room because I knew you'd say goodbye to her, even though you'll most likely see her again and not I."

Feeling contrite, Jon shook his head. "You're right. You'll be queen and I'll be a ranger of Night's Watch. I suppose we won't see each other unless you visit Winterfell. I hope that the prince is like the knights in the songs you love so much. I told you one day that you'd be beautiful and a man would love you just as you are."

Sansa blushed and shook her head. "I remember the day you told me that. I thought you were wrong. I still think you might be."

"Beauty is not as important is a good heart, Sansa. And you have that. If the prince doesn't see that, then he's a fool."

They stood there silently for a few moments before Sansa said, "You'll always be my brother. And when I'm queen and I come to visit Winterfell, I'll make sure that the Night's Watch allows you to come visit as well."

"Will I have to bow and call you 'Your Grace'?" Jon asked with a smirk.

"Of course, I will still be the queen!" Sansa exclaimed.

Jon leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Sansa grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, tears filling her eyes. "Be well Jon, until we see each other again."

"I will, my future queen. And I promise the next time I see you, I will bow just as you taught me," Jon said with a slight bow.

III.

As soon as Jon heard that his sister Sansa and her husband Tyrion Lannister stood accused of killing King Joffrey, he grew angry. He'd lost all of his brothers and did not know where Arya was. Now Sansa was lost to him too, running from false charges. Sansa could never kill anyone. Well, the little sister he'd grown up with couldn't have killed anyone. He didn't know her anymore. The Stark children had gone through so much, perhaps she'd been driven to become another woman. He'd never thought he'd do what he did beyond the Wall or he'd become the Lord Commander so soon after joining the Night's Watch.

He wished he could see her once again.

IV.

Alayne had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still... with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

'When I'm queen and I come to visit Winterfell, I'll make sure that the Night's Watch allows you to come visit as well', she'd once said to him. She remembered him telling her that one day she'd be beautiful and that one day a man, a better man than Theon, will think she was beautiful and smart and love her as she was. Theon had killed her little brothers. Joffrey had killed her father. Petyr thought she was beautiful and smart but he loved her because she reminded him of her mother. Were Jon words just another dream?

She wished she could see him once again.

V.

Brienne said that Jon had died but been reborn through fire and smoke. That there were rumors he had warged into his wolf when his black brothers had stabbed him to death but that a red priestess had brought him back to life with fire. Robb's will had made him a Stark and named him his heir. After his 'death', his oaths to the Night's Watch were fulfilled so he'd followed Stannis Baratheon to reclaim Winterfell. The north's civil war had ended with the destruction of House Bolton. The Greyjoys and the rest of the ironborn had been pushed out of the north as well by the time Brienne had rescued Sansa from the Vale.

Petyr had betrayed her, tried to murder Sweetrobin, and Sansa, tired of being the victim, had done what she had to do. No one knew what had happened that day but Sansa and Brienne. Brienne had offered to claim responsibility for Sansa's actions but she said no. Instead she called together the Lords Declarant and told them everything she knew about Petyr: about him killing her aunt Lysa Arryn, his role in the death of Lord Jon Arryn, his poisoning of their son, as well as his role in murdering Joffrey. She also told them about his intention to marry her to Harry 'the heir'. Petyr had trusted 'his daughter' Alayne Stone with a lot of his secrets. Sansa had paid attention and waited for the right moment to come for her to make her move. When she was told that a knight sent by her mother long ago was looking for Sansa Stark, she could not continue as Alayne anymore. She confronted Petyr and, as he grew more and more angry, she reminded him that she knew all that he'd done.

But her threat only made him angrier and he ran at her, his hands wrapping around her neck. Sansa drew the knife she'd hidden in her sleeve and shoved it deep in his gut. She watched with emotionless patience as he bled all over the floor. Waiting until she knew he was nearly dead, she told Petyr how he had disgusted her and how her mother had never loved him. Her mother had only loved her lord husband, Sansa's father, Lord Eddard Stark. She kept repeating, "I'm not your daughter. I'm Sansa Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully Stark" over and over again. Partly she wanted him to understand but also she needed to say it to remind herself again, who she was. Brienne stood silent until Sansa stopped repeating her mantra, then she'd called the maester to see to the mortally wounded Petyr.

The Lords Declarant had pardoned all of Sansa's offenses, including her lies to cover up Petyr's misdeeds. And when Brienne said she intended to take Sansa home to Winterfell, they allowed her to go and assured her they'd let Queen Regent, Cersei, know that Joffrey's murder had been Petyr's doing.

By the time Sansa and Brienne had crossed into the North, word had reached Jon. He and his men rode to meet her.

They stood face to face now and Sansa simply stared at her bastard brother for a long time. They'd both been through so much since they'd seen each other last: the years had not been kind to either of them. Both had scars, inside and out. And Sansa couldn't look at Jon without seeing her Father. Tears filled her eyes and she reached out her hand to touch his cheek.

"I told you that no matter what you'd always be my brother," she said.

"And I told you that no one should ever make you cry. I see now that you're like me Sansa. You were betrayed to your death but you've risen again." Jon was even more solemn than before and she sensed his sorrow. Ghost stood silently beside him, sniffing at Sansa's hand.

"I want to go home so I can truly live again," she said at last, reaching out and taking his hand.

"You'll never be hurt there, as long as I draw breath. Rumors have reached me that Bran and Rickon live and I haven't given up hope on Arya. But do not worry, as long as we're together…the wolves will come again."

"Do you truly believe they're alive?" Sansa asked, too weary and sorrowful to feel any hope.

"When I was in Ghost for a time, I saw them. They're still alive. They were lost for a time, just as you were."

For the first time in years, Sansa felt safe and she wrapped her arms around Jon, burying her face into his furs. He smelled of Winterfell. He smelled of a loving childhood home. He was her past and her future. Ghost brushed against them, nudging them with his nose. Sansa pet his head and thought of Lady sadly. Lady was gone now but Ghost was her littermate and Sansa felt he knew her.

Jon bowed to her with a slight smile. "I promised to bow to you the next time we saw each other. Lady Stark, let's go home."

Then two of the wolves rode north. Soon two of the other three would find their way home. The other one would come to them in different ways, in the Godswood where they prayed. They avenged the deaths of their brother and mother, then they rebuilt the north and Winterfell to its former glory.

And forever more, there was always a Stark in Winterfell.

A/N The paragraph in italics under IV is a direct quote from A Feast for Crows.