A/N: There were so many "requests" for a conclusion to "Rupture" that I've decided to add a few POV exercises, in order to settle on an ending. Hopefully it doesn't end up too sappy!


Mortality

Bill

The vehicle rolled to a stop in the lot, and I leapt from the passenger seat. Amelia and Sam turned to watch me go before Sam started the engine again. I darted into the emergency reception center, running past teal green chairs filled with sleeping family members, bleeding or wounded patients, the elderly and the young. I stopped at Eric's shoulder. His eyes turned to regard me slowly, the pupils small and black. His expression was cold and calculating and absent of emotion. Whatever he was thinking, if anything at all, it was pushed down so deep within him that it was undetectable. His flesh smelled only vaguely of a long-since subdued rage, an aroma of smoldering flesh and coagulated blood. His fangs were exposed, and they peeked out between his slightly parted lips.

"Eric," I grunted, keeping my eyes on his. It was protocol to keep my gaze lowered, to see only the white-blond eyelashes that lined his lower eyelid, but I needed him to see my fury. "We must speak."

The Viking turned on his heel and walked slowly outside, his gait unhurried, measured. I followed stiffly at his side, but I could not maintain that same demeanor. My cool skin was hot with anger, and I ached to question him, to find out why we had come to this place. We stood together under the beacon of a white street lamp, in front of a concrete column. His body was still where mine popped and crackled like a log on fire. He did not move nor speak.

How could he be so calm? How was he not seething with the murderous rage I knew him to be capable of?

"Sookie," I groaned with an ache that filled my entire body.

"She is in critical condition," he said, sounding out the harsh words as though he had not spoken them before. His voice was clipped.

"What does that mean?" I hissed at him.

"They do not know if she will live." There was no strain in his voice. It was as though he had already accepted her fate.

"Did you feed her?" I balked. How could he just let her die?

"She refused me."

"What do you mean she refused you?! I have seen my… I have seen Sookie near death! If she will not take it willingly, you force her! We can't let her die when it is within our capacity to save her!"

"I will not force myself upon her, William Compton." He stared at me, and his deep blue eyes were like ice. "And neither will you."

My hand shot out before I could think to control it. It smashed a hole in the concrete behind him. He made no move to step aside, nor shield his self from my blow. I was barely worthy of status as a foe to the Viking.

I owe him my fidelity.

"I won't let her die!" I growled, feeling a new sense of urgency surge within me. I couldn't let her die.

"Everyone dies, Bill." Eric said simply.

Lord preserve me, I wanted to kill him.

I walked back into the reception area and stalked over to the front desk. A small woman, long in years, lifted her eyes to me. Her mouth was a straight line, probably painted a shimmering pink at the beginning of her shift. She had only traces of the color now, smeared into the wrinkles of her lips.

"Where is Sookie Stackhouse?" I spat, trying to contain my temper without success. If Eric would not feed her, I would. I would accept the consequences of my actions later, but I would not let her die.

"She cannot have visitors right now, sir." The woman frowned.

"Take me to her!" I roared, pounding my hand on her desk. A jar of pencils fell over and rolled onto the floor. The receptionist did not falter in my gaze.

"I understand that you are worried, sir. She cannot take visitors at this time. Miss Stackhouse is in critical condition. She is unstable. Any visitation might be damaging to her current state."

I snarled at her and stepped back from the desk with a measure of strength I did not know I had. Pam stood near me, her head cocked to one side. She seemed to want to laugh, but kept her ill-timed humor in check.

"You love her so deeply," Pam said thoughtfully. "But she is only a human. Mortals die, Bill."

"Don't," I muttered, hanging my head to disengage from her.

"If you turned her, she would be yours forever." Pam shrugged. "But she would never forgive you. Of course, with things the way they are, you couldn't do much worse."