He feels so tired from all of this. Between his memories shared with Wanda and Theon, this was becoming a strain on him, witnessing many things that were better forgotten. Bran's room is clear and sharp around them, nearly solid, save for the cracks that he had come to assume meant the memory was not stable.

Jon glanced at Claire, nodding towards Bran's bed where the small boy lay unconscious. Catelyn was at his side, weaving her talismans to the gods. "That's Lady Stark." He offered by way of explanation, half hearted though it was. "My brother Bran."

His younger self came in, fresh faced and speaking about the Night's Watch. It seemed almost laughable now. That simple hope that Bran would wake up and come to Castle Black where Jon would be a ranger. The dreams of a boy that didn't fully understand what he was heading towards. But what was better in the end? To know or not know?

Lady Catelyn looked at Jon with a sad and broken glare, the words still as sharp and painful as they were then. 'I want you to leave.'