A/N: This is super late. I was meaning to have this finished and posted before 6x03 premiered but my laptop went kaputt. Anyways, this is an extension of the scene where Tara was shot and what happened after Eric went after the governor. Enjoy and if you can, please leave a review!
"Gentlemen, I am sure there's a way we can work this out," Pam's already sultry voice went down a register so that it was a smoky purr that swirled through the stagnant air, reaching Tara's ears and causing the baby vampire to shudder despite herself. She could sense the glamouring lull behind her Maker's words, had witnessed it before so it was safe to say that was just as shocked as the blonde was when the burly guard leading the human pack armed to the teeth with military approved hardware barked out for Pam to back the fuck up and get on her knees.
Tara's blood ran cold when she saw her Maker sink in submission. These were nothing but a bunch of humans, humans that both she and Pam could easily gut like pigs if they so desired to hell with those guns. Before Tara knew what she was doing, her fangs had dropped with a solid click and she was standing on top of the bar, fiercely staring down the guards with smoldering malice in her obsidian eyes.
"Take that thing outta her face before I rip yours off!"
The front man's gaze shot from Pam to Tara, a faint disbelief clouding his face. "Did you just threaten me fanger?"
At that moment the baby vampire felt a sharp ping of panic surge between the bond from Pam's end, panic that laced the words, "Tara, don't!"
Whatever her response would have been, died on her tongue as the guard took aim and fired his weapon. The force of the impact threw Tara backward and wrenched a cry of shock from her lips. Her back hit the floor of the bar with a bone jarring thud. And then the pain hit. Her belly imploded around a ball of fire and the raw, searing burn tore another choked scream from Tara's throat.
Pam gasped as a gripping fear the likes of which she hadn't experienced since she saw her Maker prepare to meet the sun with Russell Edgington sunburst in the center of her chest. "Tara!" she cried, rolling over to look behind the bar where he progeny lay writhing and screaming in pain. Though she was partially relieved to see Tara intact and not a mass of congealed blood, she couldn't begin to understand why her child was in such agony. A silver bullet, even a wooden bullet when it missed the heart was little more than a stinging nuisance until the healing process kicked in, which was pretty immediate. But God, those screams.
"What the fuck did you shoot her with?" she snarled at the guard who held his ground as his men carried out the governor's orders and continued to ransack Fangtasia.
"New ammunition specially made to wipe out your kind. Pretty darn crafty, huh?"
Pam's response was lethal growl as her glacial eyes flicked back and forth between the human scum and her howling progeny, torn between watching the guards' every move and going to Tara's side. When the damage to their home and business was done, the lead guard barked out an authoritative, "Move out!" and the squadron marched back out the way they had come.
As soon as they were alone, Pam flew over to Tara. "Where are you hit?" she gasped, her panic stricken voice gone two octaves higher than normal, alabaster hands fluttering over Tara's midsection, "Let me see!"
"It fuckin' hurts," Tara cried, her voice tight with pain, obsidian eyes so wide they flashed white, "It feels like I'm dyin'!"
"You are not dying goddamn it!" Pam snapped more out of fear than anger. And then her eyes caught sight of the gaping hole mere inches from her progeny's belly button. An odd blue glow seemed to be emanating from the hole in pulses that drew more cries from Tara's chocolate lips. "Fucking Christ, I'm going to have to move you okay?" Pam placed her quivering hands on either side of Tara's cheeks, forcing her pain and fear filled onyx eyes to meet her glacial gaze, "Brace yourself."
Tara shuddered with the effort it took to not scream against the onslaught wreaking havoc in her intestines as Pam effortlessly scooped her up and placed her as gently as possible on the bar counter but it was a battle that she just couldn't win. "Oh God," she howled, near delirious in her agony, "Oh my God, Jesus it's burnin'!"
Pam watched with wide ice blue eyes as Tara tried to claw the bullet from her own belly and terrified that her Child may do more harm than good – like disembowel herself and bring on her own True Death – she took an ebony hued hand in hers, squeezing it tightly in an attempt to soothe her ailing progeny. "Shhh, you're gonna be okay," she desperately promised, not at all sure if that would even prove fact or not, "I've got you, baby."
Before her brain could even process the endearment her mouth had uttered, a band resounded from the bar's entrance and Pam's blonde head whipped around to see the arrival of her Maker and her sister. She could have wept with the knee weakening sense of relief that swept through her.
"What the hell happened here?" Eric drawled, eyeing his child and hers, his nostrils overcome with the acrid scent of their fear and distress.
"They shot Tara and she's not healing. That fucking governor!" The sheer desperation and rage in Pam's voice had Eric at her side in the beat of a heart, scanning Tara's body for the bullet wound. He could smell her blood – a spicy merlot like blend that held traces of his own and his Maker's – as well as her flesh burning. He carefully peeled back her fingers, sea green eyes widening slightly at the sight of the blistering wound. Beside him, Nora uttered a shocked, "Bloody hell."
"What did this to her?" Eric softly demanded, turning his gaze back to his child. She was so worried, the distress and concern rolling off of her in tangible waves so thick it was almost hard to concentrate.
"The police have these new fucking guns; the bullet is still inside her." It was evident that she had come to care for her progeny a great deal and at any other time Eric would have been proud, but all of her focus needed to go to the task at hand. After ten centuries on earth, he was no stranger to injuries sustained in battle but this bullet wound seemed to be burning Tara from the inside out. He had never seen anything like it. Without warning, he slid long, cold fingers into the wound, all intents going to removing the bullet.
"What are you doing?" his progeny snapped, her brows furrowing as her Child moaned in anguish.
"I'm getting it out Pam," he countered smoothly, before gasping in pain and shock when his skin came in contact with the odd piece of ammunition torturing his grandchild. Glancing around the bar, the Viking caught site of an empty beer bottle. In a fluid motion, he grabbed the neck of the bottle, smashing it against the marble countertop, creating a makeshift tool.
Pam realized what her Maker was going to do almost at once and her mouth fell open to protest but she was silenced by the look in Eric's eyes. Her gaze dropped down to her progeny, who also realized what was about to happen and the fear in the ebony skinned vampire's eyes would have stopped her heart if the organ still beat. She grabbed Tara's hand in both of hers and offered her a silent nod of reassurance.
"Hold her still," Eric ordered before plunging to jagged glass into Tara's wound, effectively removing the strange bullet.
It took Tara a few moments to catch her breath as the hole in her midsection slowly healed and the pain bled away. When she could, she lifted herself in a sitting position, feeling Pam's unwavering gaze watching her every move. "What the fuck was it?"
"It's a silver bullet that emits UV light."
The baby vampire's mind slowly processed that information as the elders around her began to bicker about the humans, their new weapons, their ire, and the ensuing war. She had only been vampire for little more than a month and her humanity had yet to be broken. She herself had at one point been on the opposing team against what was now her kind. She could feel Pam's anger, frustration, and fear trickling through their bond and her gaze fell on her Maker going back and forth with Eric's sister, Nora. Even with her disheveled hair, whose color had dulled from its usual golden hue to roughly the shade of straw and her blood stained clothes, she was utterly gorgeous. Every fiber in Tara's being wanted to protect her and the fading pain in her gut was more of an incentive to do so. She never wanted Pam to experience that kind of pain and if going to war against humans, including Sookie and Lafayette, was what it would take, well then she was onboard.
Eric stormed out moments later, leaving Pam, Tara, and Nora alone. Pam was still fuming and Nora annoyingly aloof. "Well, if y'all are done bitchin' at each other, I'm gonna change outta these clothes. I got blood dryin' in places where it shouldn't and almost dyin' didn't make it any better," she turned to face her Maker, the expression in her eyes imploring, "You comin'?"
Heaving a sigh, Pam reluctantly turned from the door her Maker had just sped out of and his sister, and faced her progeny. "Yeah, I am."
The private bathroom in the underbelly of Fangtasia was a luxury that Eric had had designed with his progeny in mind. The large room was painted in tones of soft cream and burgundy and was equipped with a glass walk in shower, a twenty setting Jacuzzi bathtub, and paneled lights that could burn bright or be dimmed low.
"So," Pam murmured, perching on the edge of the bathtub, "How are you feeling?"
Tara shook her head as she shed the tan leather jacket and shirt beneath. Next, she unfastened her leopard print pants and slipped out of them. "Considering the fact that a piece of the sun was embedded in my stomach, I think I'm doin' pretty alright."
"Well, no one told you to play fucking Wonder Woman."
"He had a gun in your face," her progeny countered, tone laced with incredulity, "What was I suppose to do? Stand there and let him shoot you?"
"You could've met the True Death tonight. If Eric hadn't come in when he did – "
With an annoyed roll of her eyes, Tara padded over to the shower, turning it on and adjusted the nozzle to the desired temperature, "Eric Eric Eric. Is he honestly all you ever talk about? Because I don't know if I can deal with that for all eternity, if we even live that long anyway."
"You will never understand his importance to me, Tara," Pam sighed, watching her progeny step into the shower. Her body was flawless, expertly carved from ebony. Against her own volition, a small spark of desire roiled in her belly but she quickly quelled it before it could leak into the other end of the bond.
"Yeah, I know, he's your Maker and y'all have walked the earth together for a century turnin' shit the fuck up. I will never matter as much to you as he does so I should stop tryin'. I think I understand perfectly," Tara's onyx gaze shot over to meet a glacial blue, "Funny thing is, that's not the biggest problem I have with you. I just wanna know why you stay takin' shit from him. Sure, he's you're Maker and you may feel like you owe him everything for that but your dignity should take precedence over your loyalty. You ain't his fuckin' lap dog Pam, and I ain't gonna stand around a let you act like one 'cause that shit's never been in my nature."
Blood tears welled up in Pam's eyes as her progeny's words washed over her but she refused to let them fall. That was twice Tara had saved her life and twice Eric had left in her in the dark. Perhaps what the baby vampire was saying was true. Maybe she was so focused on her loyalty to Eric that she was blind to fact that he was pushing her away and in so, causing her to push her own progeny away. But then, she hadn't been able to deny the feeling that had come over her seeing Tara writhing in pain from the gunshot wound. What did it mean? She just didn't know.
"Hurry up in the shower," Pam quipped, turning away lest Tara see the look on her face, "Hot water is a luxury we can't afford anymore thanks to that fucking governor."