No Choice by PersianFreak
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris; Please don't sue. Set after FDtW.
Rating: T, possibly M for later chapters
A/N: First and foremost, this story is set after From Dead to Worse and before Dead and Gone and Dead in the Family. That is all.
Please let me know what you think.
"She's dying." Pam informs me from the doorway and I don't even bother to look up.
"Who is?" I shuffle some papers and find the one I'm looking for before returning to my laptop.
"Sookie," she responds through gritted teeth.
"Oh, is she?" I asked conversationally.
"Dammit, Eric!" She yells at me, "Stop acting like you don't know what the hell is going on and go see her!" I let my fangs click out – it's very easy – and move to stand in front of her at a speed only one of our kind can manage.
"Do I need to remind you to whom you are speaking, Pamela?" I speak calmly, though judging by her expression I know my eyes are conveying my complete and utter lack of tolerance with her attitude.
"You want to punish me? Fine," my child says, more subdued than before but still struggling with her earlier frustration with me. Her eyes flick between mine thanks to our proximity and she blinks, a hint of fear in her eyes. "But after you go see her." She's bluffing and the mere fact that she's willing to piss me off for the sake of Sookie would make me worry if I were the kind to worry. I drag out the silence as long as I can just for the pleasure of watching her squirm before I bark out a single word of surrender and storm out of the bar. My car purrs to life and I floor it all the way to the hospital to screech into a parking spot.
The place is just as I remember it, just as it was three months ago when I last came here. Everything reeks of alcohol and human blood, and humans mill about, carting food and blood and drugs, changing sheets and fetching ice chips and fretting over their loved ones. I head to the room at the end of an impossibly long hallway on the fifth floor, past the massive sign in front of the bank of elevators dubbing the entire floor the Oncology Wing. There is a curtain hanging in front of the open door and I would pause to consider the consequences if I had anything else left to lose, but as it is I shove the curtain aside and step inside.
The room has been outfitted with Sookie's personal bedding to make it more homey, I suppose, and one wall is covered with newspaper cut-outs that I recall Pam meticulously cutting out every evening, occasionally asking for my opinion regarding whether or not Sookie would appreciate a particular comic strip or article. The shifter is sitting in a generically itchy and uncomfortable armchair, flipping through a magazine and looking as worn out as I feel after a thousand years of existence. His head snaps up when I barge in and he frowns for a split second before his forehead smoothes and he regards me. Moving carefully, he brushes a hand over Sookie's forearm and she stirs as much as she seems capable of, which is not much. She's thin, thinner than she has ever been and paler than she would ever let herself become had she been capable of standing up to go suntanning. All waxy skin and sharp angles and dull matted hair splayed on the pillow, Sookie's eyes open slowly and flit sluggishly around the room to settle on mine without expression.
"Cher, I'll be right outside," her friend promises and kisses her forehead before slipping out past me.
"Eric," she rasps, a vulnerable edge in her voice.
"Hello, dear one," I murmur quietly and her eyes fill with tears. "Do you want me to leave?" Say no, say no, please say no. She shakes her head and if I needed to breathe, I would sigh in relief.
"Why are you here?" Clearing her throat, she smiles weakly though the tears are spilling over and I move without thinking – too fast – and she recoils. Lesson learned, I settle on the edge of her bed and brush the tears away.
"I don't know," I admit and she understands how much it takes out of me to admit that to her, to myself. "Pam yelled at me."
Sookie gasps, in outrage or admiration I can't tell, "She did?" Chuckling, I nod. "Why?"
"She wanted me to come see you."
"Oh," she considers that and then her face lights up ever so slightly. "She comes here a lot."
"She cares about you a lot."
"She shows it. In her own way." Sookie shakes her head, smiling fondly. I nod, knowing what she means by Pam's own personal brand of showing affection, which sometimes includes yelling at someone she knows could make her life a living hell. Falling silent, I take one of her hands in mine, taking note of the healing dot left behind by the needle now buried in the back of her other hand. When she speaks again, her voice is strong, her tone abrupt, and I look up in shock.
"I'm dying."
"I know." Even if I couldn't see her, even if there wasn't a monitor by her bed showing me how frail her heartbeat is, my blood in her is calling to me, tugging on my consciousness and letting me know how close she is to being lost to me for ever.
"It's okay," her thumb brushes over my skin. "Don't feel bad. You told me this would happen. We both knew it would happen eventually, and here it is." She actually smiles, actually fucking smiles and it does foreign things to my heart.
"It is not too late," I tell her quietly, insistent, and I am aware of my accent slipping through.
"Eric," she chastises, disapproval in her eyes.
"If I changed you now, there wouldn't be any damage to your mind. I would feed you my blood slowly over several hours and your body would heal and you would look as you did-"
"Listen to me, I don't want to be immortal."
"You would rather die?" I snap harshly and for the second time since I walked in she recoils, gazing at me with wide tear-filled eyes. I reach for her and her body, already wracked with disease, begins shaking with sobs. "No, nononono, don't cry. I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry." Shaking in my arms like a terrified, injured prey, I find I'm overwhelmed with the need to comfort her like I did my daughter, so many hundred years ago when she fell and scraped her knee, a mere toddler. And I'm apologizing, like a human man who makes mistakes and apologizes for them. Now in my arms, I can feel every bone and muscle and tendon as if her skin is the only thing holding her together as she shakes with grief in my arms and I murmur my apology into her hair.
"I can't lose you," I sigh and she exhales forcefully to pull a little out of my arms and smile at me.
"Yes you can. In a few years, you'll have gotten over me and then you'll be grateful that I didn't let you turn me." Her tears are slowing, her body calming down and I frown at her because that's not true. "Yes, it is," she tells me like I'm simply being daft, not understanding. I carefully let her settle back down into her bed and she adds, "You can't turn every woman you sleep with."
"I don't love every woman I sleep with." The words tumble out of their own accord but there's no urge to snatch them back, to deny them and pretend I made a mistake.
"What?" She asks breathlessly and I look away because she's going to shoot me down, she's going to tell me I'm full of shit or that she could never love me back because I'm a goddamn bloodsucker. "You'd never said it before."
"You knew?" I ask even though, honestly, how could she not? What other thousand-year-old vampire would put up with her like I did, what other explanation could there have been? She's smarter than I gave her credit for.
"I can't read your mind, Eric, but I guess I… I hoped." She sighs, sounding torn and I chuckle, shaking my head, which somehow calms her down and she smiles softly at me, though it fades quickly.
"I love you back," my Sookie murmurs quietly and there are no words to describe what her words do to me, would be doing to me if she didn't look so... dejected.
"Then stay with me." I stroke her chin with my thumb and tilt her head towards me, "Stay with me. If you love me, don't leave me. I will beg if that's what it'll take for me to convince you, Sookie."
"You want me alive for ever?" She challenges, eyes flashing, "You want me around for eternity?"
"Yes." Challenge accepted.
"Why?"
I pause, considering her question. Because she has no qualms against telling me to fuck off, because I'm a thousand years old and I have the ability to rip her into shreds and still she took me in and held my fucking hand all night, because she is the love of my existence.
I want to make a joke, to laugh off her question, to not give her any more power over me. But I can't. If I dismiss her now, she will never agree to let me turn her. I need to find the words that will convince her of how much I want her.
"Because I can't imagine another thousand years without you."
"What if you changed your mind?" She asks miserably and her blonde lashes glisten with her tears as I suppress the frustration at her for thinking any of the words I said I meant any less than one hundred percent.
"I won't, Dear One. Will you?" If you tell me I can turn you, will you change your mind? If I do turn you, will you change your mind about wanting me back for all eternity? She ignores my questions, instead choosing to ask one of her own.
"How do you know?" I blink at her in confusion. "How do you know you'll love me for ever?"
"I just do," I grin and her face lights up in response.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
A nod, a single inclination of her head and then, "Will you turn me?"
"Are you sure?"
"Having second thoughts?"
"No. I just want you to be sure."
"I'm sure." I gaze at her for a long moment, feeling my face break into a wide smile. "But, can I have some time? A few hours? I want... everyone to know. I want to say good-bye." My eyes flit to the monitor and she understands my gaze, understands that neither one of us know how much time she has left and we're not willing to take chances. "Will your blood hold me up for a few hours? If you give me some now, will it buy me some time?" I nod and instantly bite into my wrist and offer it to her. She gasps in shock but then presses my wrist to her mouth, drawing so deeply that I groan and hang my head to rest it on her shoulder. I let her drink for so long that I begin feeling lightheaded, begin feeling the pain in the pit of my stomach that warns me and I gently withdraw my hand.
"Sookie, I need..."
"I know," she nods, understanding that I need blood, that I can't hold out like this. "There's blood vending machines downstairs." I will probably glamour some attendant into giving me a couple of bags of blood, but her concern is touching and I incline my head before bending down to kiss her mouth. For the first time in three months, I press my lips against hers and trail kisses down her neck and to her shoulder. "I love you," Sookie sighs.
"I love you back," I whisper softly into her ear before pulling back. "I'll send Sam in." I find the shifter slumped on a couch in the small waiting area by the nurses' station and send him to Sookie before going in search of blood. Ten minutes later, I'm glamouring a pretty brunette into giving me two bags of A-positive and I sneak into a supply closet before draining both bags within seconds. I kill some time, deeming that my presence would not be appreciated as Sookie tells her loved ones about deciding to be made immortal; they'd think, in their ignorant blindness, that I glamoured her, that she doesn't know what she's getting herself into, that she's becoming desperate. They would all be wrong in that regard; she's not the desperate one, I am.
With this new transfusion of my blood in her, I can feel with even more accuracy than before, how weak she has grown. Her entire body, down to her very cells, is worn out with both the treatment and the disease, and now I can feel it with every cell of mine. There is a swell in the bond to mark what I'm guessing is the arrival of Sookie's friends and her happiness at seeing them. Claudine, Amelia, Tara and Bill, I would guess. Perhaps Jason too, roused as he may be by the possibility of his sister becoming one of us to visit her. Within minutes, her happiness fades into frustration and then resignation, at which point I return to her room to learn the cause of her latest mood change. I'm right, of course, because Claudine, Amelia, Jason and Bill are there, though Tara is absent. Perhaps I had misjudged their friendship. Sookie smiles when I enter and reaches out for me to kiss her hair and take her hand.
"Eric," Bill nods at me as he should, considering his position in the hierarchy of things and I return the greeting. The witch shoots me a small, sad smile while Jason opts for a hostile glare, and Sam and I acknowledge each other with a nod. Claudine steps back, further into the shadows and I suppress the urge to slam her against the wall and bury my fangs in her neck, choosing instead to focus on the burning scent of anti-septic hanging in the hospital air.
"You'll take care of her, right?" Amelia asks and I observe her tear-filled eyes. Had it been Jason or Sam asking the question, I would have bristled but Amelia is genuinely concerned, not questioning my competence. And, after the takeover incident, I find I respect her and admire her competence as a witch.
"Yes." She nods, smiling at me.
"Yeah, you better," Jason mutters and I glare at him.
"Jason," his sister chastises.
"All I'm saying, is that if he's so keen on killing you, he better be willing to take care of you afterwards."
"Jason!" This time it's Amelia who's gaping at him and I suppress the urge to teach this ignorant little man a lesson.
"What, he disappears for months and then rides back in on his high horse and convinces you to give up everything?"
"There's nothing left for me to give up," Sookie seethes, frail fists clenched. "I'm dying, remember?"
"Yeah I remember, I remember 'cause I've been here watching you die while he's been off being a fucking bloodsucker!" She gasps and her brother freezes, clearly regretting his words when he notices Bill's extended fangs in the second before Sookie finds words once more. I would roll my eyes at Bill but I'm too busy watching Sookie put her brother in his place.
"I think you should leave," she tells him quietly.
"Sis, I didn't-"
"I'll see you later, Jason, but right now, I don't want you anywhere near me. Please leave." Jason hesitates, awaiting a change of heart that doesn't appear before retrieving his jacket and heading out without a goodbye.
"I'm sorry," Sookie murmurs, eyes not meeting mine.
"For what, Lover?" I raise a brow and smile at her when she looks up. Her brother being an idiot is not her fault, and she smiles when she realizes that I pin no blame on her.
"You're sure about this?" Bill asks and I stiffen, something neither he nor Sookie miss.
"I'm sure, Bill," she assures him.
"You always loved the sunlight," he observes and I would very much like to punch him out. With a stake. In the chest.
"I won't see the sunlight if I'm six feet under," she jokes feebly.
"You still won't see it if you're a vampire, sweetheart."
"Bill, that's enough." I can't tell if I'm lashing out because he's trying to convince her otherwise or because he just called my lover his sweetheart. He opens his mouth to speak but Sookie interrupts him.
"I know the cost, Bill. I know what I have to sacrifice, and it's far less than what I would lose if I died. As a vampire, I'd still have my friends and everybody I love. Or I hope I would," she chuckles uncertainly and is instantly rewarded with reassurance from her friends.
"Niall won't be happy," Claudine sighs, speaking for the first time in my presence.
"It's not his choice," Sookie frowns but almost immediately switches to a look of concern. "Would I still be able to see you?" Her cousin considers it and nods, slowly.
"I would have to learn how to mask my scent, but yes."
"Good," my lover smiles, relief flooding her face.
"Are you doing this for Eric or for yourself?" Bill is apparently intent on provoking me to grant him his final death tonight.
"I'm doing it because I'm not ready to die," she responds before I can and her hand squeezes mine. "And because it's awfully selfish of me to leave you guys when I don't have to," she adds with a grin and it's my turn to squeeze her hand. Suddenly, she hesitates and shoots me an odd look I can't decipher, confusion and a bit of fear trickling into the bond. I raise a brow but she shakes her head and I let it slide, perhaps until we are alone.
"And we'd love to have you, Cher," Sam smiles – perhaps at the way his words sound as if he's talking about a dinner invitation and not Sookie's life – and continues, "but none of us would feel right unless you wanted this for yourself and not us."
"I want this, Sammy," she assures him and he nods. Amelia sniffles, practically leaping forward to hug Sookie, and there's no doubt in my mind the only reason Sookie can physically handle it is due to my blood freshly coursing through her veins.
"Aww, Mel, it'll be okay! Don't cry," she soothes.
"Don't be comforting me! I should be comforting you, not the other way around."
Smiling, Sookie says, "I don't need comforting. I'm okay now, and I'll be even better soon."
"How soon?" Bill asks and she turns to me.
"Tonight," I say quietly, meeting her eyes to express that I don't know how much time she has left and I'm not willing to play Russian roulette with her life. She nods, understanding.
"Then we should probably go?" Sam asks and I nod, slowly. "We'll see you soon, Cher." Amelia moves to allow Sam a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek with Sookie before swooping in for her own goodbye.
"See you in three days," my lover's friend smiles, all reassurance and Sookie laughs despite the tears that have filled her eyes.
"Goodnight, sweetheart." Compton is really fucking pushing it now and I growl, quietly enough that only he and Sookie hear it as he leans in to kiss her hair. There's a pause as Claudine shoots me an apprehensive look and I step away from the bed to lean against the wall, giving her the space she needs to feel comfortable. Wishing Sookie all the best and promising to see her as soon as she possibly can, Claudine pops out of the room, taking the lead as the others also begin to head out slowly. When the room door clicks shut, that's the moment Sookie finally relaxes and begins sobbing, wrapping her arms around me to release her pent-up emotions into my shirt.
"I'm sorry," she weeps, wiping at the tears. "I'll see them soon but I just…"
"I know," I say even though I'm not sure I do. She will see them soon, and she will be healthy enough to not be bedridden the next time she does. Her grief is not something I claim to understand.
"Will you say it again? I need to hear it again." I don't have to ask what she is talking about; instead, I repeat that I love her. "Thank you. I must seem so silly to you, but I just need to make sure… And I like hearing you say it. I never thought you would."
"I love you," I say again just to watch the way her eyes light up.
"You know I do too."
"I do." I didn't, but now I do. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah, I think so. I guess we're going to your house?" She is nervously fiddling with her fingers and the quilt I recognize as being her Gran's. I remember her wrapping it around me as we spoke, settled in front of her fireplace. The light of the fire, draining the colour from her eyes while bathing the rest of her in warmth; I remember thinking that she was beautiful, that I wanted her and that she must want me too, if she kept averting her gaze and blushing. The urge to protect that surfaced when she saved me has yet to go away, I observe as I arrange for her discharge, which takes longer than usual considering it's nearly ten now. I make an extra trip to my car to stuff Sookie's pillow, quilt and bag in my trunk, having taken down all the cut-outs and carefully tucked them in one of the bag's side-pockets. Hospital policy dictates that Sookie be wheeled out in a wheelchair but I roll my eyes and gather her in my arms once she has changed into a Fangtasia t-shirt and sweats, carrying her to place her gingerly in the passenger seat.
"You bought a new car," she observes and I grin. "What was wrong with the old one?"
"This one goes faster, and handles better," I shrug, patting the latest-model Corvette. And, I think to myself, the last one was bugged by the King.
"And has red seats," Sookie smiles, shaking her head when I join her in the car.
"A new feature. Do you like it?"
"It's very you."
"So you love it?" She smacks me and I'm pleased to see she's looking better, less pale and stronger thanks to the large dose of my blood she took.
"So what, you just buy a new model of the same car every few years?" my lover asks as we pull out of the parking lot and I head to my house.
"Of course not," I frown. "Pam bought me my first Corvette, to celebrate the opening of the bar. The subsequent ones I bought because I wanted newer models, but I'm beginning to think about a less modest car for my use."
"Less modest?" She scoffs, "Only you would consider a cherry-red Corvette modest, Eric."
"I need a car befitting my new position," I argue and she takes the bait.
"Your new position?"
I nod, "I've been promoted to the Sheriff of the new Area 1 of Louisiana." Felipe re-divided Louisiana, into bigger Areas and with me as the Sheriff of the biggest one. "I'm now his second-in-command in Louisiana."
"The new Area 1?" Sookie asks, appearing a bit shaken.
"All of northern Louisiana, as far down as Alexandria."
"And now you're his second-in-command," she murmurs, almost to herself.
"In this state, yes."
"What does that mean?" I coax the car into a smooth stop at a red light and turn to her.
"Well, Victor is still his right-hand man, his main second-in-command, if you will. But Felipe has assigned a second-in-command to each of his states in case he's rendered incapable, for whatever reason. Victor has Nevada, Sandy Sechrest has Arkansas and I have been given Louisiana."
"He must trust you quite a bit," she raises a brow.
"He trusts my competence, and fears my power. He's trying to mollify me, after threatening my bonded and my business and murdering my fellow sheriffs. Promoting me is his way of trying to ensure my fealty to him."
"But you had no plans of overthrowing him." It's not a question but I can still feel her questioning gaze on me as I make a left turn.
"I didn't. I still don't. Felipe is clever, cunning. He knows how to keep his people satisfied, and he knows what he needs to do to create peace after a takeover. He's a little too attached to you for my liking, but you're my bonded and will continue to be so when you're a vampire. More importantly, you will be my child, in my thrall, and that'll make you even more secure. So I have nothing to worry about and very little to be unhappy with. So no, I have no plans of overthrowing Felipe; it's not something I have any interest in."
"You sound like you respect him."
"I do. He knows what he's doing; I admire him for it." Sookie nods and falls silent, immersing herself in her own thoughts. "Are you going to tell me what happened in the hospital room? While your friends were visiting?" She had been afraid, shaken, and I have been waiting for the moment to casually bring it up.
"Oh, that."
"Yes, that."
"Um, I heard your thoughts."
"Oh?"
"It has happened before," she adds hurriedly.
"I beg your pardon?" She has heard vampires before or just me?
"Never this clearly. Usually it's just a flash, like a brief visual or something."
"Just with me or vampires in general?"
She twists a piece of thread from her shirt around her index finger and sighs, "I heard you the night you staked Longshadow. It was just a flash and it scared me because it was all slithery and vampirey. I heard Stan once, and a couple of times in Rhodes with different vampires, but it was never as… coherent, as it was with you tonight. It was like you were speaking in my mind, not all staticy and blurry like it usually is."
"And you hid it from me to… protect yourself?" An apologetic nod.
"Are you angry?"
"You heard me tonight because of the bond, not because you're a telepath."
"What?"
I shrug, "It happens. If the bond becomes very strong, sometimes it allows the bonded to communicate telepathically. It's rare, but not unheard of."
"Oh."
"But I'm glad you told me about being able to read vampires, Love."
"You are?"
"Your ability… it could change, mutate once I turn you."
"I guessed as much," she admits.
"Now we can predict how it will change better. Every time you have a dose of vampire blood, you can hear vampires. It's predictable, that's good." Smiling shyly, Sookie returns to admiring the scenery as it passes. "What did you hear from me anyways?"
"I love you."
"What?"
"That's what I heard, you saying you loved me." Ah. Figures. "Are we almost there? Where do you live, anyways? We're not in the city anymore, are we?"
"Almost. I live just outside of the city, closer to Blanchard, actually." I make the sharp turn into the side road obscured by the thick foliage of trees and slow down to avoid damaging my car with its low suspension on the country road. Soon, the trees on either side clear away to reveal my silver and iron reinforced gate. Punching the code into the keypad, I smile at the look of awe on Sookie's face as the gate slides open and drive up the cobblestone driveway, past the sharp turn that was created to protect my house from prying eyes at the gate. The lawn is manicured and leads up to my Victorian-style house.
"Oh my god, Eric! This place is beautiful!"
"Home sweet home." I grin, parking the car in the garage at the back to grab her bag before leading her up to the wraparound porch and through the back door.