The Harder They Fall
Chapter 3
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Eric stared helplessly after Sookie as Pam led her out of the club. His feelings were so conflicted they held him cemented in place. All he could do was watch as the woman he suspected he was falling in love with, took comfort from the pain he was causing her in the arms of his sister.
Eric slammed back his drink, grabbed a passing waitress and ordered another. "Make that two," he said angrily. "And make them doubles."
"How sweet of you to order drinks for me too," Aude cooed.
"I didn't. You've had enough to drink. I'm catching up."
"Well at least you're coming to your senses. A little girl like that might amuse you for a while, in a simple 'oh, isn't she cute' sort of way. But Eric, I know you, better than you know yourself sometimes, she could never keep you satisfied for long. You need a woman, a grown woman."
Eric glared at her and snatched her drink. He drank what was left in her glass in one gulp. "What do you know about what I need?" he scoffed.
"Don't you remember how it was when I was your woman?" Aude whispered seductively as she ran her hand across the front of his jeans.
The waitress sat his drinks on the table and waited to be paid. He took some money from his pocket and tossed it onto her tray. When she had gone he gulped down one drink and looked at Aude. "You were never my woman, Aude. You were my Harpie from hell. Now you're only an embarrassing part of my past. If you'll excuse me I have someplace to go."
Eric reached for his other drink and Aude slapped it from the table. "How dare you speak to me like that!" she shrieked.
"Good bye, Aude," he said as he turned to leave.
"You're going to chase after her? For god's sake, you're Eric Northman and she's … she's …" Aude couldn't think of anything distasteful enough to complete her sentence.
"She's my future," he said, and he was gone.
When he got outside, Ginger and Pam's other friends were about to come back into the club.
"Where are Sookie and Pam?" he demanded.
"You missed all the excitement!" Ginger giggled. "We came out and Sookie was passed out cold on the sidewalk. We helped Pm get her to the car."
"She couldn't have been passed out. She'd only had two drinks."
"Then I guess she can't hold her liquor, my friend," Ginger said, giving Eric a slap on the chest on her way back into the club.
"Where did they go?" he called after them.
"Don't know," someone answered.
Eric stood on the sidewalk and considered his options. Pam had taken the car, so the subway it was. If Sookie had passed out, Pam would take her to the house. He headed home.
When he got home, Pam's car wasn't there. He tried calling her cell, but no answer. Maybe she got stuck in traffic, he thought. Of course it was three in the morning now, so traffic was unlikely to be an issue. He started to get in his car but before he reached the garage he realized he didn't have any idea where he'd go.
He went inside and poured himself a drink before beginning a routine of pacing across the room and occasionally pulling the drapes back to look outside. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn't want to miss it. Eventually he simply opened the drapes so he had a constant outside view.
As each minute ticked past he became more and more convinced Pam had wrecked the car before getting home. He poured another drink and sat down to call hospitals looking for them.
Eric woke to a crick in his neck from falling asleep on the sofa and the smell of someone cooking in the kitchen. When he stood up, a headache was added to the mix.
He staggered into the kitchen and found Pam standing at the stove making pancakes.
"When did you finally get home last night?" he asked as he reached for a cup. "I got so worried I was calling hospitals."
Pam didn't answer. He poured himself some coffee and pulled a barstool over to the center island, where Pam was putting the food as she finished it. He spread some jam over a pancake and rolled it up. As he took a huge bite, he noticed a plate of ham next to the stove. "Hey, will you pass me that ham?" he asked with a mouthful of pancake.
Pam picked up the plate, turned around and hurled it at him.
"What the hell?!" he yelled as he blocked his face with his arms just in time to avoid being hit with the plate, which was now in pieces on the floor along with all but one slice of ham, which was in his lap. He took the ham from his lap and put it on his plate. "I'm not cleaning up broken dishes after you too! What's wrong with you?"
Pam was clearly livid. Her knuckles were white on the hand gripping a large spatula and her entire body was shaking. "What's wrong with ME?" she growled through gritted teeth. "What's wrong with YOU, you brute? I begged her not to walk into your web! I tried to tell her what a miscreant you are.
But oh, hell no! You sucked her in, didn't you? Ohhh, let me do a striptease and clean up after you and walk you to your room. Let me scare you with spiders then kiss it all better. Let me seduce your virginity away from you then leave you standing in the middle of a club with a stupid look on your face when my ex slithers into the picture.
I could kill you, you bastard."
Eric sat there and tried to make his pounding head absorb everything Pam was saying. "I didn't leave her standing," he protested weakly. "You came and took her."
Pam's eyes filled with rage and tightening her grip on her spatula, she lunged at him.
Eric jumped up, caught her around the shoulders and held her tight to limit her arm movement and prevent her from whacking him with the spatula.
Since she couldn't move her arms, she kicked him in the shin. He immediately let go and doubled over to grab his hurt leg. "You're insane!"
"I hate you, Eric Northman!" she screamed.
As she began hitting him with the spatula, he blocked her blows with his arms and tried to back away, but she kept after him, screaming and wildly swinging at him.
"You're a monster! And now her parents are dead and I'll never be able to speak to her again because any time she thinks of us she'll think of what a nightmare it was for her here."
Pam stopped hitting and stared at Eric, her eyes now red and over run with tears. Her rage had been replaced with heartbreak and sadness. "I'll never forgive you, Eric, never." She collapsed into a heap on the floor and sobbed.
Eric put his hand on Pam's shoulder and pushed her around so he could see her. She didn't look up at him. "You said, 'and now her parents are dead'."
In between sobs, Pam stammered, "Before I even got her outside, her phone was ringing. It was her grandmother calling to say her parents had been killed in a car accident. A flash flood, she called it."
"And you left her alone, upstairs?" Eric asked, his tone verging on accusation.
Now Pam looked up. "What?"
Eric took two steps toward the other side of the kitchen, as if he was headed upstairs, but he was stopped by all the food on the island. There was ham, well, most of the ham was on the floor, but still, and sausages, fresh baked muffins and more pancakes than a small army could eat in one sitting.
Pam was an excellent cook, but it wasn't something she particularly cared for doing … unless she was very upset. She said cooking helped her stay sane when she was upset.
"There's an awful lot of food here, Pam," he said quietly.
"Clever of you to notice, my idiot friend. Good thing for you, you don't look quite as stupid as you are or you'd never get laid," Pam snarled, dripping acid from every word.
Eric's mind was spinning out of control and his eyes were losing focus. He looked in Pam's general direction. "She isn't upstairs, is she?"
"Brilliant deduction, Watson!"
Eric leaned on the island for support. "Damn it, Pam! Be serious. Where is she?"
"Her parents are dead, Eric. She went home, of course. I drove her to Arlanda and waited with her. She left on the seven-ten flight."
"But her things, you didn't come back here. I tried to call you but you didn't have your phone on and I didn't know Sookie's number and –" Eric's other hand went to the counter for balance. He felt suddenly sick. The spinning in his head had spread to the entire room. "But I need to speak to her. You didn't let me speak to her. I followed you out and you were gone! Ginger said she passed out."
"She didn't pass out. She fainted when she got the news. She was already dazed by you and your sex kitten, then she got punched in the stomach with news like that. Well done, brother."
That was his limit. He leaned over the sink and retched.
"You deserve that," Pam said flatly when she heard him turn the water on in the sink.
"Get up," he said forcefully.
Pam looked up at him. "You planning to hit me?"
"No, but it would serve you right if I did. Get up and go pack a bag for a few days. We're leaving."
"What are you talking about?"
"Fine then, sit there, but I'm leaving in ten minutes. If you want to come with me, you'll hurry. If you're staying, I'll need you to write down her address and phone number for me." Eric reached down and helped Pam to her feet.
"But what about all this mess?" Pam asked.
"Leave it for the maid. Come on."
Eric's lifelong ability to charm the fates failed him utterly in his effort to get to Louisiana. He stood at the flight counter at Arlanda faced with no available seating on any flight with connections to the United States for over three hours. He finally booked the flight and sat down with Pam to wait. They passed the time with him asking every twenty minutes or so for Pam to repeat to him what had happened last night.
Their luck at London Heathrow wasn't any better. A lightning storm was delaying all flights. Pam kept trying to call Sookie, knowing full well she wouldn't get through. Sookie had dropped her phone when she fainted. The phone had been damaged and of course Sookie would have not had access to anyone to repair it yet.
Eric was nearly arrested for going into hysterics in the middle of JFK when he was told they'd missed their connecting flight due to the delay at Heathrow. There were no other flights to Louisiana tonight. They would have to wait until morning.
Eric harassed the ticket agents all night until a girl at the Delta counter told him there had been cancellation for two first class seats on a 6am flight to Atlanta. They would have a little over two hour layover in Atlanta before being able to catch a connecting flight to Shreveport, and they'd be in coach for the connecting flight, but they would get there just before noon, which would be about four hours sooner than the way they were currently booked. He arranged all the re-booking, then dragged Pam and her carry-on bag to the Delta terminal to wait the two hours for the flight.
Shreveport at last. Sookie's phone was still switching to voice mail the moment it connected. Pam left another message. Eric rented a car and got a map from the rental agent. He had her show him Bon Temps on the map and show him how best to get there.
Once in the car and on their way, Pam pulled out her laptop and made a quick run through the places she and Sookie usually hooked up online. No one online had seen her since she left for Sweden.
Pam found the obituary for Sookie's parents. "Eric," she said sadly. "The funeral was today. It started just a couple of hours ago. We've missed it."
"She was alone," he said, more of a reproach of himself than to Pam. Eric's fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he thought about how he'd failed her. He'd frozen like a fool when Aude came to their table and spewed her poison. And when he spoke, what did he say? She's Pam's friend.
And as a result of his idiocy, she'd been left alone to cope with her devastating loss. How could he have done this to her? To her, whom he was more certain with every passing minute he was in love with. He'd be lucky if she would even take the trouble to spit on him when he found her.
They pulled into a gas station at the Bon Temps exit. Eric sat in the car and stewed while Pam took the map and went inside for drinks and directions.
They pulled into the Bon Temps Gardens cemetery and parked near the small office building. They went in the very somber office, its walls lined
with rows of samples of varying colors of marble and granite beside large photos of grave markers. Standing on a long table separating the room in two were several flipcard books showing different adornments and additions you could purchase for your loved one's marker. A gruesome business, death.
"Welcome to Bon Temps Gardens," the professionally dressed middle aged woman said in a voice which would be appropriate for reading bedtime stories to children. "I'm Mary Hubbard. How may I be of service to you today?"
"We're looking for the Stackhouse funeral," Pam said.
"Ah, I'm afraid that service had ended and I believe everyone has gone by now." Mary Hubbard stepped to an east-facing window and looked out. "Oh, wait. It looks like there's one person still over there. I can't tell for sure, but I think it might be Sookie Stackhouse sitting there. Poor thing, she was on a trip to Europe when the accident happened –"
Mary was stopped by the sound of the door opening and closing. Pam was still standing there, but Eric had bolted as soon as Mary said she thought it was Sookie sitting out there alone.
"Thank you, Ms. Hubbard, you've been very helpful," Pam said with a courteous smile. "Would you be terribly inconvenienced if I sat here to wait for my brother? Of course, I will see myself out if a patron should come in before he returns."
"Please, you are quite welcome to sit," Mary said with a smile.
Pam perched herself delicately in a high-backed chair with a view through the window where Mary had seen Sookie. Eric was walking up behind her now. She hadn't turned around.
Eric ran from the small office building until he was within only a few feet of the large green tentlike canopy. He walked slowly up the short aisle of folding chairs. As he got closer to her, he could hear her soft, erratic sobs. Just as he'd feared, she was alone and in pain.
"Can I have a few more minutes, please?" she asked without turning. Clearly it wasn't the first time she'd asked.
"As long as you need," he whispered.
"Momma! " she cried and dropped to her knees on the ground and hugged her stomach. "Why does it have to hurt so much? Even now, even with you gone, I can hear his voice, just like he was standing right here." She was on all fours and sobbing uncontrollably now. Huge, gulping, choking sobs.
Eric knelt behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Shh, Sookie, it's alright." It was killing him to see her in so much pain. But what could he say? How could mere words make anything better for her right now?
Sookie screamed, a baleful wail, which barely sounded human. She cringed away from Eric's touch. "Whoever you are, leave me alone! And don't say anything else. I can't stand it. You sound too much like, like –"
"Who do I sound like, my lover?" he said softly, reaching out and pulling her to him.
Sookie turned and looked at him as if she was seeing an apparition. She lifted her trembling hand to touch his face, but stopped a couple of inches short. "But you don't want me," she stammered.
"I've never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want you," he said, looking directly into her eyes and brushing her hair back from her tear streaked face.
"Eric," she said, touching his face as if she feared it might disappear when she made contact. "You're really here."
"I'm here," he said and he kissed her forehead. "I'm late, but I'm here." His lips brushed against hers once before moving to her cheek to trace the lines of her tears with kisses. He held her closer as the taste of her tears both reprimanded him for his mistakes and reminded him of her closeness. "I'm so sorry, Sookie. Please let me explain."
She shook loose and looked up at him. "It doesn't matter. You're here now."
"It matters to me. It matters I hurt you. It matters I never want to see you hurt again. I don't know why I didn't speak up sooner at the club. It was unforgivable of me to let her speak to you like that. I told her I didn't want her. She mocked me for chasing after you and I didn't care. I only knew I wanted you. I needed you. I loved you."
Sookie gasped and her eyes welled up again.
"Oh, no love. Please don't cry. Shhh." He pulled her back to his chest and buried his face in her hair.
"I'm ruining your shirt," she sniffled.
He laughed softly and let of her long enough to unbutton and remove his dress shirt. He handed it to her with a flourish. "Your handkerchief, milady."
"How gross! I can't do that."
"It's less gross than the alternative. I have no tissue."
"Eric, I can't keep staining all your shirts."
"You can if you're with me. If I promise to wear a different shirt every day will you promise to stain them every day? Until we have no more tomorrows?"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," she laughed.
"There's the smile I love. Come on. Let's go now. Let me take you home." Eric stood up and pulled her along with him. Sookie looked back to the freshly covered graves. He cupped her face gently in his hands. "They're alright, Sookie. They loved you and they would want you to take care of yourself." He kissed her, more passionately than he had intended. He stopped abruptly and smiled at her. "Come on, Pam's waiting to see you."
"Pam came with you?" Sookie asked with something close to enthusiasm.
"Someone had to hold the map," he said with a grin.
When they arrived at the house, Sookie stood on the porch with the keys in her hand and began shaking. "I just realized I haven't been back here. I came to Gran's house when I got back."
"Let me," Eric said, taking the keys from her. He opened the door and with an arm securely around her shoulders, he led Sookie into the house.
Sookie began to cry again the moment they entered. Eric handed Pam the keys and scooped Sookie up in his arms. "Which way to your room?"
Sookie pointed down the hall and directed Eric to her room. He placed her on her back in the center of the bed, removed her shoes and put them in the closet. He slipped his own shoes off beside the bed and crawled in beside her.
He cradled her in his arms and hummed softly as she clung to him and cried. It had been so long since she'd had a really good cry while someone held her. She'd been twelve and she'd spent a long time fixing her hair one morning. But she hadn't know what she was doing and her hairdo had fallen to pieces well before lunch time and several of the girls in her class has teased her unmercifully. She had burst into tears and run all the way home. Her mother had been on the front porch swing and she'd called Sookie to come sit with her. They had sat there in the swing for nearly an hour, Sookie crying and mamma holding her.
She shifted in Eric's embrace, closed her eyes and smiled. When she opened them again she glanced around and she could see her entire life surrounding her. Stuffed animals she'd had since she was little and some not so long. The picture of the lake she'd painted in the sixth grade when she was sure she'd be the next Van Gogh hung in the frame Jason had made for her in wood shop.
"I grew up in this room," she said as she snuggled closer to Eric. "I made all my plans and dreamed all my dreams here."
"Tell me what you dreamed." he asked as he drew random shapes on her arm with his finger.
"I first dreamed of you here," she said with a giggle.
"Did Pam email you pictures? I'm sure she didn't say anything to tempt you to dream about me"
"Oh no, it was way before I ever talked to Pam. I was thirteen and I had just seen The Princess Bride for the first time. For weeks I would come to this room at night and pretend I was Buttercup. I would pull my rocking chair to the edge of the window and I would sit there with my knees drawn up and stare into the night, waiting for my Westley to come for me.
Eric leaned to whisper in your ear. "Hear this now: I will always come for you."
Sookie faced him with a huge smile. "You know The Princess Bride!"
"Wrong line, Buttercup."
"Oh, right." She straightened herself and took on a far away tone. "But how can you be sure?" She held her breath, waiting to hear the words she'd waited since she was thirteen to hear.
With a hand behind her head, he spoke. "This is true love – you think this happens every day?"
Before she realized what had happened his mouth was on hers and she was returning his kisses. Her Westley had come at last.
Pam knocked once and entered with no further warning. "I knew I couldn't trust you two with the door closed," she said with a laugh. "Are you in bed for the night?"
"Actually, I'm kind of hungry. Sorry I didn't offer y'all anything to eat. Mamma would scold me something terrible for being a bad hostess."
"I'm sure she'd forgive you today," Pam said with a smile.
"Besides," Eric said, propping himself up on his elbow, "we didn't come for your food."
"No, you came thousands of miles to make out, right?" Sookie chuckled.
"Wrong," he answered, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I came for you. Come home, Sookie, to Sweden, to me."
"But this is my home. It's my –"
"Your what? I love you, Sookie and I know you love me too. I can feel it."
Sookie seemed stunned, so Eric turned to Pam for support. "Tell her, Pam." Sookie looked up at Pam.
"I believe he means it, Sookie," Pam said with a sincere smile. "And I know I do. I'd love nothing more than for you to come home with us."
"It isn't really my house any more. It will go to Jason. I'd have to go live with Gran."
Eric's gaze fell to the blanket beneath them. "Don't come to avoid moving in with your grandmother," he almost mumbled.
"Hey," she whispered, touching his cheek and coaxing him to meet her eyes. "How about if I come because when that plane left Sweden I felt a part of me being ripped away and left behind. A part I didn't think I'd ever get back. The part I left with you."
She kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you, Eric. Let's go home."