Disclaimer: I own neither True Blood nor the books upon which it is based.
Full Summary: The characters and some of the events they go through are taken from the television series and the books. However, expect to see more of an influence from the T.V. series.
Note to Readers: First off thank you for taking the time to read this story, I leave it entirely up to your judgement as to whether you leave a review or not. Secondly, this is the first fiction I've published and the second I have written. I AM NOT A WRITER . This is a fact that will become abundantly clear if you choose to keep reading. Beyond writing poems and songs I am a strictly visual artist, I will post any fan art I do. Thirdly this is the first multi chapter installment in what I hope will be a series of Sophie/Hadley ("Sadley" as they were killed of/discontinued in season four) stories. I have seen up to episode 3 of season four, and have read none of the books. Any knowledge I have on characters featured in the book is courtesy of wiki and wikipedia. So expect OOC behavior. Especially from Hadley in these early chapters as in this universe she is still a teenager when she meets Sophie Anne. The writing will change and mature as she does.
A/N - I recommend listening to Lil' Wayne I Feel Like Dying for the second half of this chapter.
Chapter 1 - Blood and Sand
For my love,
If I'm right years have gone by before you've opened this letter. I don't blame you, I know you're angry and that you probably even hate me for how things played out. I accept that fully. I have lied to you, gone behind your back, and done despicable things knowing eventually you'd find out. But if I had one wish I wouldn't change a single thing, this painful life brought me to you, I'd just ask for the chance to tell you myself. You deserve that.
God, baby I'm so sorry. But now that my secrets are catching up to me and I'm almost out of time there are some things I want you to know. Things the others can't or won't tell you.
Hadley's POV
I enter the room shivering. For the first time that I can remember it's cold walking into the day room. Brightly lit and decorated with palms and exquisite creams and gold her majesty usually keeps it at least eighty degrees. After her bedroom, of course, this is my favorite room in the mansion. Elegant even in its obscenity this room screams Sophie Anne. I owe much of what I know about my queen to the way she decorates her rooms. Lonely tenant that I am heaven knows that I've had enough time to sit and analyze every room at my leisure. There is no need for analyzing now though; the open door brought with it an unwelcome chill, an intruder has entered.
"Hadley!" breaking my staring contest with the sandy tile, I look up briefly, feeling my heart drop like my gaze back down to my feet. Where its kicked along by Russell as I continue to be lead, flanked by Eric, further into the room.
Hyper focused as I always am when that voice calls my name. I didn't miss the raw emotion in her tone or the helplessness in her cloudy blue eyes as she sat staring at me through the bars of a silver cage.
Damn it. I draw in a breath and look up at the ceiling. Try to calm down. I need to concentrate if I'm going to have any chance of getting out of this.
We stop in front of her and I finally find the courage to look at her.
"Hadley, I wish you didn't have to see me like this." I'd never known her majesty to mumble.
Fighting the hysterical laughter bubbling up I manage to remain silent and hold her beautiful gaze. They're almost perfect for each other. Her majesty is just vain enough to worry about her appearance in a time like this and Russell is just flamboyant enough to fucking own a giant silver bird cage. If they were straight they would make eccentric love together, and if they were human I reckon their children would be downright cartoonish.
But they are neither of those things.
"Your human is trembling because I've already filled her in on my plan." Russell drawls dramatically.
By now my teeth are chattering and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. A habit I all but kicked until recently. My "trembling" is most definitely caused by the cold thank you…my racing heart is one hundred percent Russell though.
"Which is?" Sophie Anne says, eyes like frost as they regard the Mississippi gentleman.
"To sink my fangs into her and drink." He says pleasantly. "Care to join me?" Tossing a glance to Eric.
"Your majesty is kind," Eric says inclining his head in thanks. He grabs a hold of my hand and forearm bringing my wrist to his lips his eyes darken dangerously, and I swallow hard. "Tell me why you're interested in Sookie Stackhouse."
Shit! I begin to brace myself, I'm so screwed.
"I have no interest in Sookie Stackhouse," She returns viciously. Emotion dancing in her vibrant eyes. "Russell Edgington is the most duplicitous vampire in the Americas," She continues coldly as if he weren't present. "Maybe the world. You honestly think you can trust him?"
"Like I can trust you?" Eric snaps.
"Oh, well…The only vampire a vampire can trust is the vampire he made." Russell adds his two cents mildly. "But Eric, here, tells me you've kept this one for a long time. There must be a reason for that…"
He let's his sentence trail off. The arm he'd left around my shoulders lifts now as he brushes my bangs out of my eyes. A loving gesture only performed by my Grandmother years ago and more recently by the tender hands of my queen; I flinch visibly though he is gentle, it feels wrong and is entirely perverse. Taking one last look at her, regal even in the current situation, before he cups my chin pulling my face so that all I can see is the much duller blue of Eric's shirt. Already stained with blood. I know there is nothing but pure terror in my eyes and I am both glad and disappointed that she doesn't have to see it. I know what happens next and I know that I will have to save myself.
"If me and my," His breath fans my straining neck, and I think my heart's about to burst out of my chest, "most loyal servant happen to drink too much…so be it."
Fuck!
"Fine, so be it." Her voice is as quiet and cold as winter wind.
I hear two animalistic snarls and my own pain filled cry echoes out in the stillness of the room. They are not gentle when the shred my skin. My vision fades in and out and thick red rivulets flow from my neck, down my chest, and in between the valley of my breast. Blood pours down my forearm, spraying Eric's face and staining his shirt before pooling on the tile. Blood and sand. I am reminded of a time long ago.
Five years earlier
Gasping loudly I was brought out of my dreamless state. The smell and taste of urine assaulting my senses and slamming into the back of my throat before I could promptly shut my mouth. Groaning, I groggily picked my head off the porcelain seat. Warm now where my face had been, I rest my back against the cold wall behind me. Paint chipped off and fell like spiders down my back when I adjusted myself weakly trying to get comfortable, all the while keeping my eyes closed. My chin dropped to my chest and the toilets cold valve dug painfully into my back, but I was too tired to care, already beginning to feel myself drift off again.
…
A loud crash from the other side of the wall behind me vibrated against my spine, pulling me from the sublime darkness and raining more paint down onto my bowed head. I cracked open my eyes blearily and my lap slowly swam in and out of focus. Black pants. I was still in my uniform. Well…partially. Noticing I was topless aside from my bra. My arms rested limply at my sides, palms upward. I could make out the scars of past tracks as well as the dried blood that ran in a thin caked line from my forearm before drying on the tile next to a syringe. Another crash against my back and I could hear the neighbors raised voices now, barely muffled by the thin wall.
"Hey would ya shut the fuck up!" A deep masculine voice bellowed from the room to my right.
The voices continued. Getting louder if anything.
"Bitch, I'll fuckin' kill you!" a pause, then a scuffle. "You fuckin' cocksucker."
More struggling.
"SLUT!"
I blinked rapidly, vision finally clearing as I peered out from the curtain of my dirty grey hair. It was stained various shades of brown. The sweat had long since dried and it was matted to my face and blew stiffly with each shallow breath I let out.
Using my hands as support I managed to lean forward just enough to get my legs underneath me, then gripped a nearby towel rod. I pulled myself shakily to my feet.
I almost collapsed back down when the world veered suddenly and spots blotted out my vision. I swayed violently, leaning a hand against the wall before letting my elbow collapse and resting my forehead against my arm. The front of the toilet pressed coolly just below my knees while I waited for the dizzy spell to pass. Just breathing and giving my racing heart time to catch up.
When I was finally able to see again I had an uninhibited, birds eye view of the raised toilet seat and murky brown urine stewing in the unflushed bowl.
Now I've passed out in bathrooms before and I'd always pull the cover down before resting my head on top. Fucking Remy.
He must have come in while I was out, pushed my head somewhat out of the way and took a piss a few inches from my face. Squinting around my surroundings I noted he'd gone for a squeeze too as my right tit stuck out of my bra.
Sighing heavily I righted myself before sliding the cup back in place. I navigated my way through the towels strewn about on the floor, careful to keep my feet together in the cramped space to avoid snagging my toe and breaking my neck in the subsequent fall. I reached into the tub for the white, long sleeved top I knew would be there. Shifting a bit I turned around fully. With my heels pressed evenly against the tub my toes were just a few inches shy of the start of the toilet. Shifting again I leant over and flushed.
I stumbled the remaining half step to the doorway and leant against the door frame - the door itself having long since been torn off its hinges.
I squinted into the living room, letting my eyes adjust to the light; brighter than it had been in the bathroom I winced, and felt the start of a migraine.
"You forgot to flush." I husked to Remy's lazy ass on the sofa.
Really how lazy can you be, it's the easiest fucking thing in the world.
"I didn't want to wake you." He replied.
How thoughtful. I rolled my eyes. Remy Savoy was thirty-two years old, about six foot two, and as flabby as he was long. His arms weren't especially built and he had a definite pot belly but his chest was bony and undefined. His brown hair was buzzed close to his head and he had his fair share of tattoos. He lay on his back nude except for his holey green boxers and unlaced muddy boots. He rarely took them off. A trophy he says from his Neo Nazi days.
I found this unlikely as I don't think anyone could simply 'quit' the brotherhood. Once a moron, always a moron was like their code or something. As a matter of fact Remy having an occupation, in an asinine gang or otherwise, to quit was pretty laughable. I'd known him since I was barely fifteen years old. We were off and on (usually more off than on) and never once had I known him to have a job. I did all the work and then some.
Heading into the kitchen I opened the top left drawer immediate to the entrance. Empty.
"Besides," He continued. "Waters out."
Crossing the kitchen I pulled open a few more drawers. Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty. I stood confused for a minute staring blankly at the mountains of dirty dishes, food in varying stages of rot, before finally pulling my shirt on. I was starting to get pissed. Spinning around I headed for the penguin shaped cookie jar. Aha!
"Mhhm," I grunted in response to…whatever the fuck he just said, tearing the head of the penguin to look inside. Fucking empty.
"Mhhm, that's it?" He said, and if I'm not mistaken with a bit of an attitude.
"Babe," I asked nicely, even throwing in a crooked smile for good measure, "where's the V?" .
He rolled over swinging his legs over the edge of the couch to sit up. "We're out."
"God-fucking-damn it." I cursed under my breath and ran my fingers through my stiff hair. My hand came away with dirt and a few streaks of white from the peeling paint in the bathroom. My heart rate picked up and my skin got that prickly sensation it gets when my blood begins to boil. My pulse settled evenly in my temples and the room seemed to get thirty times brighter.
"You need to give me money fo-"
"And the coke?" I interrupted.
"Gone, Haddy listen-"
"I gotta go." I said woodenly already headed towards the door.
"Hey!" He was suddenly on his feet. He grabbed a hold of my elbow, pulled me back toward the center of his closet sized apartment. Disturbing various amounts of debris littered about the floor.
He spun me around fully to face him before he grabbed my other elbow and his grip tightened painfully.
"What!" I yelled. Letting the anger surface.
He looked at me incredulously. "Well, first of all Bitch I was still talkin' to you," He spat into my face, as he shook me slightly to emphasize each point. "Second of all, you're gonna pay this water bill."
Somewhere between his raised eyebrow and the first 'well' I'd given up trying to count to ten. Bracing against his chest and bending at the knees a little bit I used the muscles in my legs to push him back roughly. It wasn't enough to knock him down or even break his hold but he stumbled slightly and his left hand fell away to steady himself. Using my newly freed limb I followed up with a sharp elbow to his jaw before he could fully recover.
In my defense I've always had a quick temper. Having frequented his apartment for at least a year and a half he should've known better than to manhandle me before my fix.
Consequently, what followed was a blur of heaving bodies and spitting and screaming rage. We fought the same way we fucked, clothes on and all.
"Psycho FUCKIN' bitch I'll kill you!"
And with that his fist caught me in the stomach. The air was forced out of my lungs in a rush. Tears sprang to my eyes and saliva pooled in my mouth almost immediately. With calloused hands he slammed me bodily onto his crusty carpet, making my shoulder blades ache. I lay in a heap before his boot came down full force on the same spot he'd tagged on my abdomen a few seconds ago.
Fight over.
Sharp, shooting pains held me in place. I sputtered, wheezing on the ground, and cradled my stomach. I rolled onto my side to lay in a fetal position. And managed to wonder if the neighbors had the same fight. I must have lost some time as well because the next thing I know he's made his way back from the kitchen, bringing the last bottle of beer, mine I might add, up to his lips.
"You are one stupid cunt," he drawled casually.
"Oh! Is this yours?" he said as if reading my mind. He shot some of the brew out between his teeth. It made a pattering noise where it sprinkled my legs.
Cackling he tilted his head back to chug the rest before belching and letting the bottle drop from his hand and onto my shoulder with a hollow thump. He wiped the condensation from his hand on his bare chest before turning away completely.
I laid there for a few more minutes relearning how to breathe before attempting to get up.
The hell were we fighting about anyway?…oh, right.
"I-I…l-lost" I heaved.
Get up or talk, not both. I staggered to my feet for the second time that day. Only this time I doubled over in a coughing fit so violent I felt beads of sweat break out across my skin. I dry heaved a few times but came up empty, spitting onto the already stained floor. When it had subsided I continued to suck in air like I'd just run a marathon. I righted myself carefully and found that it was better to remain slightly crouched with a hand to my middle. It literally felt like he'd crushed something.
"As I was…I was saying," I swallowed thickly, "I - I…they fired me." I was better than Remy because I'd had jobs before not because I could keep them.
"The fuck?" Remy wheeled back to me.
I didn't give him a chance to do, or not do,anything. As soon as I saw his face I swung with all my might. Careful to keep the bottle close to avoid having it fly back into my own face. Remy's screams were pure agony but I didn't have time to enjoy it as the pain from my abdomen engulfed my upper body. I allowed the momentum from my attack to carry me to the wall across from me. I turned to let my back hit it gently before sliding down breathlessly to the floor. Shit.
Remy continued to curse me a few feet away rolling around with his face in his hands. Did he really have time to close his eyes?
Not wanting to be stabbed in the back later I tossed the remaining neck of the bottle as far away from Remy as the shoe box apartment permitted. My hand still pressed into my abdomen like I was trying to prevent my organs falling out while I glanced around hurriedly. I located my shoes, not an arms length from me and I put them on as quickly as the pain would allow. I'd decided I didn't want to wait around to find out.
Picking myself, piece by piece, off the floor for what seemed like the millionth time today, I walked carefully over to Remy. I fully intended on stepping over him on my way out, but I changed my mind as I went to raise my leg; I could hear the theme music to Jaws playing in my head.
Duuna.
My foot hovered over his head and he was none the wiser. He was still hiding his corny face in his hands.
"Owww, God…you fuckin' b-"
Duuna.
I swayed unsteadily on one leg as my foot floated down his chest and over his stomach. Should I pay him back, huh…?
Duuna dunna duuna.
…no. And because I couldn't think of any good come backs to the insults he'd given me when our positions were reversed I shouted "NICE DICK!" Before bringing my heel down savagely on the jewels being contained by his tattered underwear.
Twisting a bit for good measure as I put my full body weight on the apex between his legs. I bit my lip to contain my laughter when he screamed like he was being murdered.
Merrily pushing at one of the blades of the ceiling fan with my index finger as I gained a few inches in height thanks to Remy. But then promptly regretted it when I felt something give a wet pop in my chest. Oh, damn!... feels like I'd tried to catch a canon ball with my solar plexus.
"tsss!" Hissing out in pain I brought my hand quickly back down to my middle as I stepped off him.
"-swear to god I'll kill you." he choked.
"I didn't know you were a soprano." I remarked. Turning around I saw nothing but hate in his honeyed brown eyes, I had no doubt he meant his threat.
Christ Ramona, your eyes are fine. Or at least I was pretty sure they were, the whites were blood shot and it looked like someone had taken a red paint brush and coated his entire face and neck. It dripped off his nose in a deep burgundy color where it formed small lakes on his filthy carpet.
He laid curled and nauseated in a fetal position, like I had earlier, on the verge of blacking out; the only difference was he was practical squeezing his junk. I really hate him.
Remy was the kind of guy that preyed on young damaged girls. When I was fifteen he supplied me with all the alcohol, marijuana, and cocaine a teenager could want. He played the dominant partner well, at least. Back then I was just foolish enough to get off on his dangerous vibe, and just arrogant enough to believe he loved me. After he convinced me to move in with him when I'd dropped out of high school he introduced me to a few of his friends. He said:
"Don't worry Haddy. I'll protect you." and "This is for us baby, I'm doing this for us."
Except I was doing it for us. And by 'us' I mean drugs and by 'it' I mean them. His friends.
For a while the money was good. We had a moldy roof over our heads and eight balls hidden in the couch cushions. Then I got arrested.
It's sad but Remy by no means ruined my life, it was already headed that way long before I met him, but he certainly didn't make it any better.
Looking down on him now as he continued to glare up at me I fought the urge to kick him as hard as I could in the anus with the tip of my shoe. You are so beneath my feet, that's what I should have said.
Instead I blew him a kiss, ladylike, and didn't bother to shut the door as I left his apartment for the last time. Good I hope his neighbors see him… Then rob him. Not like he had anything any way but there's a reason its called the Dirty South and that's just New Orleans. Speaking of which "You are so beneath my feet" isn't that Wheezy? Maybe its better I didn't say that.