Legal Stuff: None of its mine all belongs to the wonderful CH.

A/N I'm a first time fanfic writer and this is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Jason, remarkably subdued, left shortly after Niall and I can't say that I tried very hard to stop him. Physically I was feeling better than I had in days, whatever Fae power Niall had backing up his goodbye kiss had really packed a wallop. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and after a couple of iffy moments I was able to totter under my own power to the kitchen. There had been a small steady stream of concerned friends and a slightly larger group of the nosey that had stopped by to check up on Amelia and me. Say what you will about the south but you don't stop by after a tragedy if you don't have some sort of food to leave behind.

Digging in the fridge I came up with the chicken basket that Sam brought me earlier that afternoon. It might not have been homemade like some of the other offerings in the fridge but I knew the motivation behind it and that was good enough for me. I didn't bother to heat it up, just plopped down at the kitchen table with a bottle of coke and the Dairy Queen box. I briefly considered and ultimately rejected trying to get Amelia to join me. I think both of us could have used the company but in no way shape or form were my legs going to navigate those stairs. Before I knew it I had managed to make my way through most of the contents of the box and I was even feeling some of the depression of the past few days lift. Not a dramatic change but just enough to leave me feeling genuinely tired rather than the wrung out depression induced exhaustion of the past 2 days. I chose not to examine it too closely; I figured it had to be tied to the Fae mojo from Niall but I just wanted to enjoy it, without question, and maybe get a few good hours of sleep in. I tossed the remains of my makeshift dinner in the trash and shuffled back to my bedroom. After a quick stop in my little bathroom I fell gratefully back into my bed. I barely had pulled the covers up to my chin before I was out.

Amazingly I slept through the night and didn't even stir until the first rays from the rising sun lit up the eastern sky. I stretched and was amazed at the things that didn't hurt. Confused I stretched again and I was shocked as hell to discover everything felt just about normal. Mentally I was starting to panic. There was no way that I should be feeling as good as I did. I swung my legs out of bed and just stared in shock. I still had some pretty serious discoloration and some scarring but in comparison to the day before it was what could only be called a miraculous recovery. I rushed into the bathroom yanking my nightgown over my head as I went. I'm as vain as the next 26-year-old so I have a full-length mirror hanging on the back of my bathroom door. I stared at my reflection hardly daring to believe what I was seeing. My arms and torso looked even better than my legs. My tormentors had liked the soft tissue the best and they had really enjoyed mine. Thoroughly. I shouldn't have looked this good in two more weeks. I'm not sure I should have looked this good in 2 more years. Even with the vamp blood I probably shouldn't have looked this good without reconstructive surgery. And hello, no health insurance, surgery wasn't going to be an option.

I don't know how long I stood there and stared at my ravaged body, all I know is that I was shivering and had a nice crop of goose bumps by the time I came to my senses. I started up the shower turning the hot all the way on and just barely tapping the cold. Just short of scalding was the order of the day and if felt like heaven. I stood under the pounding spray a lot longer than I normally would; enjoying the heat and letting it work out the lingering small aches. When the water was staring to lose its edge I decided it was time to get down to business. I lathered up my hair and gently washed my body. I looked longingly at my razor but while I was healing up better than I could have wished for I was no where close to being able to shave my legs.

The water was starting to cool perceptively, thank you word of the day, when I finally shut off the water. I took a little more time to pamper myself, smoothing on my favorite body lotion and moisturizer and then wrapping my hair up in a towel turban style. I wrapped up in my comfortable old robe and went to make the coffee.

As soon as I stepped out of my bedroom the scent of fresh brewed coffee hit me. There is nothing like the smell of coffee first thing in the morning, especially as a surprise. Amelia must have all ready been up this morning.

When I hit the kitchen I found my roommate standing at the sink just staring out at the yard. "Morning", I said quietly so as not to startle her.

Amelia slowly turned her head to face in my direction. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face was puffy and her mouth had that slightly blurry look of someone that has been crying too much and sleeping way too little. Her hair, normally so smooth and glossy, stuck up in ragged clumps all over her head testament to how many times her fingers had plowed through it. My heart, all ready put though enough this week, broke a little more just looking at her. I couldn't help but feel like I had been a bit selfish these past few days. I had lost a lot and there was a lot that I was never going to get over. But Amelia had lost the man she loved and that's a lot and a lot she was never really going to get over either. 'Morning' she croaked back at me before turning back to look out the window.

Forgetting the coffee for the time being I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my cheek on her shoulder. She stood totally straight for a long moment before a harsh sob escaped. Once that one was out it was like the floodgates were thrown wide and she sobbed and almost convulsed in my arms. Her fingers clutched at the sink, her knuckles white and she did everything but howl with her grief. I just hung on for the ride and eventually she started to settle down. As the sobs subsided she went limp and I just let both of us slide to the floor. Amelia sprawled out a bit and I rested on my knees my arms still around her waist. I rocked her back and forth and her head fell back to rest against my shoulder. Amelia has always been a strong broadcaster but right now all I was getting from her head was a tangled red mess. Finally she spoke in a ragged whisper, "Oh Sookie, lie to me and tell me this is going to get better. Tell me that it's not always going to hurt this bad."

"It's going to get better, and I'm not lying. The pain won't always be this bad." I whispered into her hair. She sobbed as I continued; "It's going to be bad for a while and part of you will always miss him but it will be better, I promise."

"Sookie he was a good man" she said fiercely, "and because of the cover-up everyone is going to think he was some sort of drug dealer. Instead of everyone knowing that he died as a good man everyone is always going to think that he was messed up with drugs. He didn't deserve that! I can't stand anyone thinking like that about him."

I squeezed her tighter before I trusted myself to speak, " Everyone that really knew Tray knows that it's not true. Everyone that really knew what was going on knows the truth or will. The rest would believe whatever they want to anyway."

Amelia exploded, "Its just not fair! He gave his LIFE trying to protect you and he goes into his GRAVE with the world thinking he was nothing more than fucking drug dealer and there is NOTHING I can do about it! I LOVED him and I couldn't do anything to help him while he was being slowly tortured to DEATH and I can't do anything for his memory now!" She collapsed into tears again and I have to admit that by this time I had quite a few falling too. I held onto her as tight as I could and just let her cry. I didn't have the words to tell her how sorry I was for the way everything happened and that I would give damn near anything to go back and do it all over again.

One traitorous thought popped in my head, that if I had listened to Eric and stayed with him that none of this would have happened. If I hadn't been so stubborn Tray would still be alive. Along with Claudine and her baby, and even Clancy would all still be here. If I hadn't of insisted on staying in this house where I keep thinking I'm safe and keep proving over and over again that I'm not then I wouldn't have cost all of us so dearly and lost so much.

My black mood threatened to overwhelm me and that wasn't helping Amelia. It took a lot of effort but I pushed all of that back down inside where I could deal with it later and just did my best to comfort my friend.

We stayed in that floor crying, holding on to each other for dear life and rocking back and forth for another good half an hour. My legs were totally numb by the time Amelia started drawing away and pulled herself to her feet. I wasn't nearly as graceful. I latched onto the sink and heaved myself out of that floor. As soon as I was on my feet Amelia threw both her arms around me in a crushing hug.

"I don't blame you" she gritted out, " I really don't and I love you but I'm hurting and I may say things I don't mean. OK?"

I hugged her back, "I don't care what you say, and I'm still going to be here for you. I love you too."

She squeezed me one more quick time before letting me go. With a grim smile she headed out of the kitchen. "I'm going to start getting ready for the funeral. Coffee should still be OK if you want some." And then she was gone.

I poured a cup of coffee; I could tell just by sniffing at it that it had started to burn just a bit during our grieving session. At this point I cared more about the fortifying properties of the caffeine than I did about the taste. I sipped on my mug as I headed for my own bathroom to get ready for the funeral. My general sense of well being from earlier was ancient history.