Chapter Text
The days passed by, difficult and lonely with Ned's wife and children gone. Coming home had used to be the brightest spot in his day; returning from a tiring day at work to a warm, well-lit house where he was guaranteed to get a kiss from his wife and there was at least a fifty percent chance of Rickon trying to jump on his back and strangle him from behind. Now, when he came home, the house was dark and far too silent. Even when all the lights were on, there was something essential missing; an emptiness as though the whole spirit and personality of the house had been sucked out.
The only one to come over anymore was Sandor. He would come by every weekend with a letter for Sansa (and occasionally one for some other member of the family), though it would usually take a few weeks for any response to arrive.
Ned was more pathetically grateful than he would have liked Sandor to know, that the boy had forgiven him enough to be willing to come by and spend the weekend with a lonely middle-aged man who was often too tired by the long hours of investigation during the week to be any sort of decent company. Usually they would just sit on the couch with a beer or two and watch a game before Sandor would go back to the crappy apartment he was renting. Still, Ned found a lot of comfort in those afternoon hours spent with Sandor, shouting at the television or making fun of the commentators, and eating takeout. Sandor was probably the only one who could understand just how empty everything was without them. Even if they never talked about it, they both knew.
It was the evening of a long day when Ned arrived home some four months after the family had gone. He had in the passenger's seat one of the rare packages that contained letters from the family. He had not been able to help himself and had read the letter from Catelyn on the spot, but he was saving the rest of the letters to savor slowly once he got home.
The package contained letters for Theon, which Ned had texted him about already, but it being a weekend, Ned assumed that Theon had plans for the evening and would come to pick them up sometime later. Sandor on the other hand...
Despite occasionally being tempted, Ned never did peek at the letters his daughter sent Sandor. He did have a look at the letter Rickon had sent Sandor, though; he couldn't get his fill of words from his children. Rickon had enclosed a drawing he had recently made, and a query regarding who would win a fight between a dinosaur and a ninja.
When Ned texted Sandor that the letters had arrived for him, he had received an almost immediate reply that he would be over soon. So there was another something to look forward to. A good day, overall.
As Ned parked and got out of his car, he spotted a white car driving slowly down the street as if looking for an address. He stepped forward to see if they wanted to ask for directions, when an ear-splitting bang sounded and Ned found himself thrown backwards onto the concrete as multiple bangs pierced the air, tearing at his eardrums. It took a few seconds for him to realize that he had been shot at, and only when the realization came did he suddenly become aware of an excruciating pain somewhere in the area of his collarbone. Shit.
"Shit, shit, shit!" It took Ned a while to realize that he was actually hearing those words, not just thinking them. He struggled to open his eyes, and saw a mass of burn scars hovering over him.
"You'll be fine, Ned," Sandor said pleadingly. "Just hang in there, I'm calling an ambulance."
A wave of fire shot through his chest and Ned moaned in agony.
"Sorry, just- putting pressure.... need to stop the bleeding..." Sandor's voice sounded very far away. A great black wave was pulling him away from the voice, away from the pain, into nothingness. Ned let it sweep him under.
He came to, first to the feeling of pain. It took long moments to sort his thoughts out through the haze of exhaustion and agony and remember what had happened. It took some effort, but when Ned managed to open his eyes he found himself in a hospital room.
Sandor was sitting in a plastic chair by his bed, scowling at the laptop on his knees as he typed. He seemed to sense Ned's eyes on him, because he glanced up after a moment, and started when he saw that Ned was awake.
He said something to Ned as he leaned forward to press a button by the side of his bed, but even as Ned made out the word 'nurse' he could feel himself going back under.
The next time Ned came to, Jory was in the room, and the pain was more muted. Ned was able to focus enough to ask for water, and once that need was taken care of, to ask Jory what had happened.
"It was a drive-by shooting," Jory said, which correlated with the hazy recollections Ned had of the event. "The Lannisters put out a hit on you. You're lucky they only got your shoulder and not something more vital. They've put you through a few surgeries over the last couple of days, but I won't be surprised if you don't remember. They kept you pretty heavily sedated."
"It definitely feels like it," Ned groaned. "I'm going to get Tywin Lannister if it's the last thing I do. Bastard."
Jory paused. "About that-"
"Please tell me you're not going to try and get me to drop the case," Ned frowned. "Spineless law enforcement backing down the second they're personally threatened is the only reason Lannister managed to become as powerful as he is in the first place. And until someone stands up to him and decides that enough is enough-"
"Ned!" Jory interrupted him. "That wasn't what I was going to say! The gods know I've heard this lecture often enough to know exactly how you would respond to such a suggestion. I wouldn't even have tried. No, what I wanted to tell you is that there's been a development in the case."
"Oh?" Ned asked breathlessly. It was probably a good thing he didn't have to give the lecture again. He didn't think he could have made it through that much blustering in his current physical condition. "What's the development?"
"Jaime and Tyrion Lannister came forward. They've agreed to testify against Tywin."
"You're kidding! How the hell did that happen?"
"As far as I can tell, we have Jaime's new girlfriend Brienne to thank for his sudden discovery of his conscience. Very unlikely couple, that."
"Wow," Ned shook his head incredulously. "She must be some woman."
Jory chuckled. "She is. Don't know what she's doing with an idiot like Jaime, but I'm not about to complain given the results."
"And Tyrion?"
"He completely turned against Tywin after finding out about what had happened to his ex-wife."
"Tyrion Lannister was married?!" That womanizer?
"Apparently he married her when he was very young. They'd done it secretly behind Tywin's back, because Tywin would never have allowed it had he known- she was a simple girl, no powerful connections, no money. Well, Tywin found out. It was awful," Jory shuddered. "You can read the testimony Tyrion gave us once you're out of here and back at work. It seems that Jaime recently gave him some details that Tyrion didn't have before. Whatever it was was enough to turn Tyrion as well."
"So what happens now?"
"The testimonies by Jaime and Tyrion were enough and more to get an arrest warrant. Tywin and Cersei are in custody now. We've also managed to have their bank accounts frozen, which will hopefully make it impossible for them to put a hit out on you or anyone else, or at least very difficult. All that's left is to prepare for the trial. Oh, and to bring your family home of course. It ought to be safe now."
A few seconds later, Jory sprang to his feet. "Fuck, Ned!"
"If seeing me cry makes you that uncomfortable, you'll want to get out of this room in the next twenty seconds," Ned said stiffly, repressing his next sob until Jory was safely out of the room and his privacy was restored. It was safe for his family to come home.
A few hours later, when Ned was sitting on his bed, trying and failing to focus on the TV, Sandor came to visit.
"Jory told me you were awake," he said, coming to sit by the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Far from pleasant," Ned admitted. "But compared to how I was feeling last time I was conscious, positively peachy. Did Jory tell you the news?"
Sandor smiled, the left side of his face twisting unpleasantly, but Ned had long since learned to look past that and interpret the joy in his face. "It's safe for them all to come back. Sansa is coming home."
Ned leaned his head back against the pillow and sighed, basking in this shared moment of happiness, until Sandor cleared his throat.
"When you were shot- I didn't know at first you were going to survive it. Felt like bloody forever until the ambulance got to you, and after that until I could get some concrete information from a doctor. And I spent all that time thinking of all the things I wish I had said to you, and wishing it wasn't too late to say them."
"Sandor, it's alright. I'm going to be fine, there's no need to torture yourself with those kinds of thoughts."
Sandor shook his head. "That's not the point. You could die in a car crash tomorrow, or I could, or a thousand other things could happen to screw everything up, because that's what life's like. And it would kill me if I didn't get to tell you these things. So just let me, please."
Ned subsided, and Sandor took a shuddering breath. "You know that my dad, he isn't- well, after he covered up for Gregor, I never really spoke to him again. I mean, I don't ignore him when he's in the house, and I answer a question if he asks it, but I never initiate any interaction with him. I haven't for thirteen years. I just couldn't see him as a father anymore. And then you- you really took me into your home and treated me like I was family. And I know that you already have six kids, so it's not like you're looking for another one or anything, but to me you've been-"
"Sandor," Ned interrupted him. "It's not a function of how many kids I already have. I love you like a son. One day you'll probably be my son-in-law, but when that day comes, it can't make you any closer to my heart than you already are."
"Oh," Sandor said. The expression on his face reminded Ned painfully that as huge, tough, and intimidating as he was, Sandor was still incredibly young. "So yeah. Thank you for being more of a father to me than my real one ever was. That's what I wanted to say." He nodded decisively.
"You're welcome." Ned very much wanted to hug him, but seeing how red Sandor's one good cheek had become, he decided to take pity on him. "So, did you catch the game last night?"
Sandor gratefully latched onto the subject change, and Ned pretended not to notice when he surreptitiously wiped at his eyes with his arm.
The next time Ned would see Sandor cry would be when Ned walked Sansa down the aisle, but that was still a while away. For now, they merely sat together, speaking companionably of nothing in particular, as family members often do.