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Awareness trickled in slowly before a flash of memory caused the dam to break.
Sansa having sex with her brother. Proclaiming how much she loves it, loves him. The obscene slap of skin on skin as she rides him. His semen dripping out of her.
Catelyn lurched upright with a gasp, her heart racing in her chest. Her head whipped around the room, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. She stared, uncomprehending, at the bed.
Jon and Sansa were gone.
Time started again when Catelyn tentatively pushed herself to her feet. She's pretty sure that there were clothes scattered on the floor when she walked into the room. Now, they're gone. The bedspread was wrinkled, but Cat remembered Ned sitting on it when he put on his socks this morning. She didn't see any wet spots on the bed either.
Her stomach turned at the thought.
Blinking dazedly, she cast another, more careful look around the room. How long had she been unconscious? She didn’t know, exactly, when she got home, but she thought it might have a little after ten o'clock. According to the clock on her nightstand, it was now 10:09. She couldn’t have been out for more than a minute or two.
Had that been enough time for the kids to leave and hide the evidence?
It didn't seem likely.
Catelyn stalked across the room to her closet and flung open the door. Hangers clattered as she shoved the clothes apart, but there was nothing and no one behind them.
She hurried to the master bath next, but just like the closet, nothing was out of place.
“Sansa?” she called. She stepped into the hallway. “Sansa!”
“Mom?” Sansa came out of the hall bathroom wrapped in a pale green towel. “What are you doing home?”
‘I’ll tell them I love it!’ Sansa vowed, breathless as she bounced on her own brother’s cock.
Rage flared to life in Catelyn once more, and she all but flew down the hall.
Sansa stumbled back a couple of steps, eyes wide and fearful.
Good, roared the wrathful thing in Catelyn's chest. She should be afraid.
Catelyn loomed over her daughter. “Where. Is. Jon?”
Sansa's brow furrowed, and a nervous-looking smile flitted across her lips. They were still red and puffy from kissing her brother and gods only knew what else. Catelyn wanted to slap her.
“Jon moved out a month ago. Are you okay?”
“Why are your lips so red?” Catelyn snapped, hoping the sudden change in topic would let Catelyn catch her in a lie.
“I was eating a popsicle!” Sansa blurted in response.
“At ten in the morning?!” How stupid did Sansa think she was?
“I don’t know, I guess?!"
Catelyn shoved past her into the bathroom. She ripped back the shower curtain only to find an empty tub. She rounded on her daughter.
"Where is he?!" she screamed, making Sansa's whole body jolt.
"Mom, I don’t know! He’s gone!” Her eyes darted from side to side in search of an escape route, and Catelyn quickly grabbed her by her upper arms.
"Where is he?" Catelyn repeated slowly, her voice cold.
"I really don't know! Please, Mom!" Sansa yelped when Cat's grip on her shoulders tightened.
“He was here!” Catelyn shrieked, giving her daughter—her filthy and unrecognizable daughter—a shake. “And you two were—”
Gods, she couldn't even say it.
‘We’ve had sex every. Single. Day. Since summer started,’ Sansa boasted, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust.
“We did what? Mom, I really haven’t seen him since he left! What’s going on?!” Sansa looked frightened, tearful.
“Liar!” Catelyn yelled, shaking Sansa again.
"Mom, please, you're scaring me!"
The words pierce through the haze of fury and make Catelyn freeze. She searched her daughter's face for any sign of deceit, but as far as she could tell, the fear in Sansa's tear-filled eyes was real.
Cold guilt lanced through her.
Gods, what was happening to her? Was she having a stroke? Some kind of mental break?
Just like that, the fight drained out of her, and her hands fell to her sides.
“You should…" She swallowed hard. "You should probably call your father.”
An hour later, Catelyn found herself in the emergency room, Ned having rushed home to drive her. If asked, she wouldn't have been able to recall any of the doctor's questions, but somehow, coherent answers come out of her mouth anyway. It was like someone else was doing the talking.
She’d woken up groggier than usual that morning, but she hadn’t felt bad enough to call out of work. A sudden bout of nausea barely an hour into her workday had made her reconsider that decision, however. While she was waiting for the nausea to pass, she'd ended up falling asleep at her desk for fifteen minutes. That had been the final straw.
She had her assistant reschedule her appointments, and then she drove home. She saw something horrible in her bed that might have been a hallucination, and then she fainted. When she woke up, the horrible thing was gone.
At no point does she explain what the horrible thing was.
According to Ned, Sansa said she had been agitated. She'd been afraid that Catelyn would hurt her.
A CT scan turned up normal, but her other exams revealed a fever and a moderately elevated white blood cell count, consistent with a cold or a case of the flu. The doctor tentatively concluded that the fever was to blame for her hallucinations and erratic behavior. She was to rest and drink a lot of fluids, and if she started hallucinating again, or if her fever spiked even one-tenth of a degree past 103, she was to report back to the emergency room.
Over the course of the next week, her vague bug evolved into a nasty case of the flu that spread to her husband almost immediately. Ned, with his annoyingly robust constitution, kicked it in a matter of days. For Catelyn, it dragged on for nearly two weeks.
Two weeks alone with Sansa while Ned and Robb were at work and the other kids were at camp.
She helped with meals and fetched things without complaint, and the rest of the time, she remained cloistered in her room, allowing Catelyn to get plenty of rest. Nothing about her behavior was out of character or indicative of a guilty conscience. She was as quiet and well-behaved as she always was.
Catelyn knew that she should apologize to her, but try as she might, she couldn't even look at Sansa without seeing her on top of Jon Snow, her breasts bouncing and mouth spewing filth.
‘Everyone's going to know that your daughter loves fucking her brother! ’
The doctor said it was a hallucination, and Catelyn desperately wanted to believe it. However, the suspicion that it wasn't never left her mind for long.
Even after several days spent in a bleary-eyed haze of cold medicine and debilitating exhaustion, she never saw anything comparable to what she witnessed in her own bed. She never saw anything else that might have been classified as a hallucination in hindsight.
It was a relief to finally return to work.
Unfortunately, her respite was only temporary. While life seemed to go on as normal for everyone else, all Catelyn could think about was her 'hallucination.' Why hadn't she had any others? What if it was real? How would she even prove it? What would happen if she did?
She only lasted a week before she broke.
She told her assistant that she was taking an extended lunch, and she drove home. She started breathing a little easier when she pulled up to the house and found the driveway empty, just like it was supposed to be. Jon Snow's dark station wagon was nowhere to be found.
She parked and slipped quietly into the house. Upstairs, there's no sign Sansa in her room. It would make sense for her to be downstairs somewhere and Catelyn had simply missed her. Instead of checking there, however, Cat found herself drawn to her own bedroom as if magnetized.
‘This isn’t even the first time we’ve done it in your bed.’
She opened the bedroom door, and an iron band clamped around her ribcage when she heard the shower in the master bath running. Why?
Had Sansa decided to shower somewhere else just to break up the monotony of being home alone all summer?
Had Ned come home early? Catelyn hadn't seen his car in the driveway either. Dread opened a pit in her stomach. Had Ned hidden his car in the detached garage behind the house? Was he cheating on her again? Nearly twenty years, and it still chafed at her sometimes, though by now, it was less of a raw wound and more like an old scar that became stiff and painful at certain times.
Like when she could hear unexplained moaning coming out of her bathroom.
One voice was definitely male, low and resonant with the faintest hint of gravel. The other was higher, breathier, and louder.
The band around Catelyn’s ribs tightened, sending a throb of pain through her. Maybe Ned had brought someone home. Maybe he’s in the shower with her right now.
She hated that Ned cheating on her might actually be the better option.
Catelyn stepped into the bathroom.
The clear glass walls of her shower were fogged up, but Catelyn could still make out the shape of a dark-haired man pressing a dark-haired woman up against the side. Their bodies rose and fell in time with the man's hard, steady thrusts. The woman's palm smacked against the shower door and then slid away, cleaning the glass just enough for Catelyn to get a look at her face.
“Sansa.” The name slipped past Catelyn’s lips without permission.
Sansa’s head snapped to one side, and her blue eyes went wide. However, she didn't seem afraid.
The man with her—inside her—looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, it’s Jon Snow. His rhythm faltered for a moment and then stopped completely. His slow, slick withdrawal from her daughter's body made bile rise up in Catelyn's throat. She swallowed hard and straightened her spine, glowering at both of them.
She expected them to turn off the shower—to come out and try to lie to her again—but instead, they turned and shifted around until Sansa faced Catelyn. Jon pushed her up against the shower door, flattening her breasts against the glass, and Sansa's whole face went slack with pleasure as Jon pressed inside her once more.
Catelyn's mouth fell open in shock when Jon Snow set the same steady pace he'd been using before. Long, sure strokes pressed Sansa even harder against the shower door, so she braced herself against it, spreading both hands over the glass. She tilted her hips in silent encouragement to fuck her harder, deeper. Jon's hands gripped her hips, and his hips snapped forward hard enough to make the shower door rattle in its frame over and over again. Sansa let out a drawn out, throaty moan as her head fell back against his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Catelyn asked. She knew it was a stupid question, but she couldn't fathom how they could just…change positions. And kept going. With her right there.
“Having—uh!—having sex, Mom,” Sansa replied breathlessly, her lips quirking up in a faint smile.
Abruptly, horrifically, Catelyn was reminded of how Sansa would sound when she was about five years old, and Catelyn would ask her a purposely silly question like ‘do our socks go on our hands?’ She would correct Catelyn with a laugh in her voice, just like she was doing now. The memory hit her like a knife to the heart.
“And we’d like to finish,” Jon Snow bit out. His hand slipped between Sansa's legs and began stroking her clit with a surety that made Catelyn want to throw up.
Sharp, blistering rage tore through the blanketing sense of unreality that had settled over Catelyn from the moment she stepped into the bathroom. She grasped that familiar anger with both hands and let it fuel her.
"You'd like to finish?" she repeated incredulously. "You'd like to finish?! You think you can come into my house, defile my daughter, your own sister—”
A particularly ecstatic moan from Sansa cut off what she was going to say next. She tensed and trembled, and Catelyn realized with revolted shudder that her daughter was coming right in front of her.
Grinning savagely, Jon Snow stroked Sansa's clit until she began to whine and squirm away from him. He wrapped both arms tight around her and pressed a series of kisses to Sansa's temple, ear, and neck. "Good girl, coming so hard on your brother's cock. You love it, don't you?"
"Yeah," Sansa sighed, slumping contentedly against the shower door. Jon's hands slid down Sansa's arms, and he tangled his fingers with hers. He pressed her hands to the shower door once more and went back to fucking her with slow, long, and hard strokes.
For the first time in the months that she'd been forced to know him, Jon Snow met and held Catelyn's gaze.
"She's my sister now? What happened to me not being a part of this family?"
Catelyn's jaw clenched so hard that it ached. She wanted to shatter the shower door and slash Jon Snow to pieces. She wanted to wanted to bash his head in and watch his brains leak out of his ears.
She wanted to make it so he never even came here in the first place. She'd told Ned to leave him in Dorne.
'He's just a kid, Catelyn,' he'd said. 'He doesn't have anyone else.'
Except he wasn't 'just a kid.' He was a twisted, disgusting creature wearing her husband's face and poisoning her daughter.
"You're not. You're the thing that ruined this family," Catelyn spat. Tears pricked at her eyes, and it felt like there was acid welling up her chest.
"You know my birth certificate says 'Father Unknown?'" Jon asked with galling casualness. "I could marry Sansa when she's old enough."
Catelyn's stomach dropped in horror.
Sansa, however, gasped, and she looked so surprised and delighted and in love that Catelyn couldn't stand it.
"I could even put a baby in her right now."
“Oh gods, yes! Yes, Jon, please! I want to have your babies!” Sansa babbled. "Fuck me harder!"
Jon obliged her, slamming into her hard enough to make the shower door rattle again. Smirking at Catelyn, he bent his head to speak directly in Sansa's ear. "Are you going to come again, sweet girl? Already?"
"Yes," Sansa gasped. She took one of Jon's hands and guided it between her legs. Immediately, he began stroking her clit.
He looked up and caught Cat's eye once more.
"There's nothing you can do about it, Cat," he said, spitting out the shortened version of her name with a glee that made Catelyn want to strangle him.
“I am calling the police right now!" she yelled. "And you better pray they get here before I cut your worthless cock off!”
"I'll tell them I love it!" Sansa exclaimed. "Remember?"
Catelyn had more than enough evidence to prove to herself that what she'd seen before wasn't a hallucination, but such a direct reminder was still enough to make her feel like someone had kicked her in the stomach.
She went still, and for a moment, all she could do was stare at them, her mind reeling.
If she called the police, the best she could hope for was statutory rape, and Jon would get nothing more than a slap on the wrist. And Ned would be beside himself, the truth eating him up inside.
At worst, Jon and Sansa would loudly proclaim that they were brother and sister, and they'd been sleeping together. The punishment would be far worse, maybe for both of them, but everyone in town would know. There would be looks and whispers, and school would likely be hell on earth for the younger kids. She and Ned could lose both of their jobs. Their other children could be taken from them.
She could throw them both out, but Ned would ask questions. Catelyn had no idea how she would explain kicking out their most well-behaved child.
There was nothing she could do. She didn't have any power here. They had all the cards.
Sansa let out another loud moan, and it was obvious she was coming again. This time, Jon's mouth fell open too, and a guttural moan rumbled out.
Catelyn fled from the bathroom.
The next thing she knew, the bathroom door was opening. Catelyn had no idea how long she'd been just sitting on her bed, staring at nothing.
Sansa stepped into the bedroom, her hair combed and dried. She was still naked. She stopped in the doorway and frowned.
Behind her, Jon Snow had also dried off. Like Sansa, he was still naked as his nameday and frowning like he had no idea what she was even doing here.
Catelyn's rage flickered and then died before she could get a proper grasp on it. All she could feel now was exhaustion.
"I didn't know you were still here," Sansa commented. "Don't you have to get back to work?"
Catelyn stared balefully at her in response.
Unbothered by Catelyn's silence, Sansa took Jon's hand and pulled him into the bedroom. Without even covering herself, Sansa led him out the door.