So Far Down, a sookie stackhouse/southern vampire mysteries fanfic

A/N: So this is my first fic and I thought I would try an attempt at the Weekly One-Shot Challenge. The challenge theme is "I'm high enough from all the waiting." As soon as I saw this, of course some nice hot smut with Eric and Sookie came to mind, but I wanted to try something else.

This is also post "Dead and Gone" so I guess there are probably subtle spoilers throughout. I kept thinking that Sookie would have a hard time after all that had happened and I wanted to explore the possibilities. I love angst and went several different ways with this at first, but then my writing just led down an entirely different path and I felt it fit. Eh, what can ya do?

I also based this loosely off of the song by Three Doors Down, "So Far Down," hence the title. It's a very depressing song, but that was the mood I was in and the lyrics are quite good. One more thing before I go, I would like to think Meads for being my Beta. She offered some aweomse words of kindness and I love her writings a lot! Thanks Meads!

Anyway, enough rambling from me, hope you enjoy. Thanks!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Pg. 283, Dead And Gone

"You're not dead," Dr. Ludwig pointed out.

But I'd come pretty damn close; I'd sort of stepped over the line. There'd been an optimum rescue time. If I'd been liberated before that time, I would have laughed all the way to the secret supernatural clinic, or wherever I was. But I'd looked at death too closely---close enough to see all the pores in Death's face---and I'd suffered too much. I wouldn't bounce back this time.

As I sat down on my bed after my shift tonight, I was absolutely exhausted. Slowly depleting. Gradually deteriorating. These are terms that continuously flow throughout my consciousness. I have never felt so… tired… so utterly tired. Not just in the sense of my sore feet, my aching muscles, my tired brain, but my overall psyche. Since the eve of the Fae war, I haven't had a lot of time to think about all that has happened to me in these past few years. I've made it a point to actively avoid such conversation with myself actually. Scared of what I might discover. Some would say I am avoiding. They would probably be right. Who would really want to remember all of that though? Years of constant turmoil, not knowing if I'll make it out of situations alive, getting betrayed while completely dedicating myself to others in need, trying to be the best person I know how to. And for what? To get beaten, shot at, staked, raped, and used? Oh let's not forget the most recent escapade. Kidnapped and tortured mercilessly until I'm at the throws of death, only to be painfully jerked back into the very real and very cruel place that I once called life. Hah! Could I be any more dramatic right now? The problem is, is that none of it is drama. It is real. 100% authentic.

I'm not even sure of what has transpired in my life since the night Niall closed off the portal to the Fae Realm. I have been living in a constant haze. It is a subtle, yes refreshing companionship that I have welcomed whole-heartedly. Of course I go through the motions. My days are like a tightly regulated schedule that I dare not deviate from. I wake up, shower, eat, work, sleep among other monotonous things… It's like clockwork really. My body knows what it needs to survive, and it is operating on the notion of sustaining life by the means it knows. It's almost like I'm an automaton. This is why I cannot deviate. That would mean willfully making a decision, and frankly, I just do not have the desire anymore.

I can honestly say that for the first time in my life, I could give a damn about anyone and anything around me. Come to think of it, I could care less what really happened to me. I remember thinking in the hospital that to keep on living seemed so difficult I wasn't sure it was worth the trouble. Hhmm. There is definite truth in that. This errant thought crept through my reflections like a lion stalking its prey. And like the lion, the concept of death hit me with extreme blunt force and I could picture, with perfect clarity, what it would be like to give up fighting and let myself fall.

I couldn't breathe. I was trying to scream but nothing would come out and no one could hear me if I was successful. I was uselessly flailing my arms, trying to claw my way back to the surface; however, my actions were leading to the contradictory result of being pulled down further... It was like I was suffocating. I knew what it felt like to almost die, as I had been there numerous occasions, and this surely was no different; but, it was.

As soon as I realized this, my nerves began to calm and an odd sensation swept over me. It was so serene, yet I felt like I was riding on the most intense rollercoaster of euphoria as I drifted further toward my ever-waiting death. I was never one to do drugs, but if I did, this is what I would expect it to feel like. Enough hanging around though, as I'm high enough from all the waiting. I was embracing death like a newborn clings to their mother's breast. For that is what I was, born again. It was then that I felt the softest caress of a cool hand on my cheek, and the reminiscence of a warm voice whispering, "Let go. Just let go lover." As the words took effect, I slide my eyes open to find myself looking upon myself. It was like an outer body experience.

I saw myself in my bedroom lying on the bed; however, I was not alone. Lying next to my body was Eric. He was softly stroking my features with his right hand, using feather light touches as if he were afraid I was made of the thinnest glass, and I would break being handled too rough. His left hand had snuck beneath my neck, sufficing for a pillow as my body was resting against his. My left hand was clutching his shirt as if it was a life-line and my body was twitching like I was having a bad dream. Eric was whispering in my ear to "Let go. Let go of the pain lover." It was then, at this odd moment I remembered a quote I ran across while messing around on the internet; "Death helps us to see what is worth trusting and loving and what is a waste of time."* I suddenly felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Looking at Eric, how caring and utterly devoted he was to me in that instant was the reassurance I had needed.

I had been living in darkness for so long now that I forgot there was still good out there. Unfortunately, I have been living in denial longer. It was so clear now. I love him. Eric. I knew and felt if with every fiber of my soul. I needed help and knew without a doubt that he would be there. I was clinging to him like a life-line because he was my personal salvation. After so long in obscurity, the now imposing luminosity was blinding, but I welcomed it with open arms, and kicked my self-imposed gloom away. I would bounce back, and with a vengeance! I now knew what I needed to do, and I gently let myself fall back into darkness, because I had no doubts to what I would wake up to. After being so far down, I finally found my light.

A/N: So as you can see, although I love angst, I couldn't end it like that. I really wanted to off Sookie, but I like her too much and I thought that would be a rough way to start my writing here! Haha. Plus, I do not see her actually doing something that dramatic and so the point is moot anyway.

Thanks for reading and again, sorry bout my rambling! I like to talk!