Hello, everyone; I have returned because I promised someone, the man that this chapter is dedicated to, that I would at least write some of this before I went to bed. I know I have updated quite a bit since adding this story less than twenty-four hours ago. Regardless, I got some motivation from my good friend. I love you so much, Hun and you know it! This one's for you.
As always, I am not the owner or proprietor of this show. I make no profit and only enjoy to toy and play with Alan Ball's characters. I do not own them, but Eric and Godric? They own me. ;)
Everything seemed to move slowly once Luke pushed the bomb's trigger. I saw Eric grab me from behind while Godric held the both of us. I had a feeling of safety, even over the overbearing foreboding that came over me. I was in shock. I could not hear a thing over the sound of the bomb. It took eight rapid heartbeats to regain any hearing in my ringing ears. My head throbbed for a moment and then I felt the three of us hit the ground. Our close proximity to the blast worried me.
I knew I had to break out of my shock. Being in shock meant coming out of shock and coming out of shock meant a nervous breakdown and/ or post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms. I could not afford such hindrances when nearly everyone who entered Merlotte's own a truck that roared like a lion and backfired every few feet. I regained my bearings after going over this information in my head and tried to move. I was unscathed, but my clothes felt cold and wet . . . why the hell would they be . . ?
When I realized what that implied, I tried to roll an unconscious Godric off of me, but he was far too heavy. I tried once more, but the cold, lifeless (pardon the pun) body would not budge.
"Isabel! Stan! Help me, Godric and Eric are hurt real bad!" I could not mask the hysteria in my voice. I was terrified. My hands were shaking the worst, and the rest of my body quivered. I could not afford to shut down when the two men that I cared about the most were dying- wait, where the hell did that come from?
The weight of Godric left my body as soon as I called out names.
"Sookie, are you all right?" asked a distraught Isabel.
"I am fine, but these two . . . they need our help," I said in a voice that dripped with fearful determination. I thought I was going to be sick, but I forced myself to keep it together. I would break down into a nervous ball of Sookie later, as long as time permitted. I examined the wounds of Godric and Eric after seeing that both Stan and Isabel were left unscathed. Eric's shirt was littered with slash marks and bullet holes, but Godric . . . I wanted to weep. His shirt was virtually shredded, leaving an exposed, muscular torso. What would have otherwise been a sexy sight was nothing but a horror film. I wished that I could wake up from the horrible nightmare I was in, but I knew that it was real. I could feel the blood; smell its sickly sweet scent all over my body. It made me physically ill, but I could not waste any time with the importance of the situation.
I tore away what was left of the virtually disintegrated shirt from Godric's body and set to work pulling out the pieces of shrapnel I could grip.
"Which one of these two has the worst injuries?" I asked, trying to figure out what to do with the bullet wounds.
Stan looked at both for no more than a moment before he spoke.
"Godric's injuries are much worse than Eric's. You three were the closest to the blast," stated Stan in an uncharacteristically mournful tone. "Normally, our bodies can heal, but with all of the silver in these two, I don't think they can."
"Isabel! Round up the injured vampires. Get them in one area to be treated. Have any willing donors with them. Just to be safe, have a vampire near in case they lose their control," I ordered, trying to get a grip on myself as I tended to the two vampires with me.
"Got it," Isabel replied without question.
"Sookie, there is a bullet lodged under Godric's ribs. I would get it, but it's silver. You need to get it out before it burns any deeper than it is," said Stan hurriedly.
I looked at the bullet hole that he was referring to and cringed.
"Sookie, relax," said Stan, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You can do this, sweetheart."
Had I been in a situation less important than the one I was in, I would have gawked at Stan for using such a word of endearment toward me; a human.
I slid my finger into the cold flesh, feeling the blood that was in the wound squelch and move out of the wound. I wanted to throw up all over the place, but I could not afford to lose that time. I could not afford to lose either Godric or Eric. I could feel the warm bullet just out of my reach.
"Son of a!" I cursed.
"It is okay, Sookie. You can do this; I am right here," Stan comforted.
I leaned over Godric and began to suck in his blood, trying to get the bullet out of his body. I should have spit out the mouthfuls of blood I was consuming, but time did not permit. Finally, the bullet came free and landed in my mouth. I spat it on the ground and looked around, trying to find any other bullets.
"In his neck," said Stan, obviously doing the same thing that I was.
As if I was a vampire myself, I supported Godric by the back of the neck. I leaned over him and latched my mouth over the bloody wound. I felt my hair lift and I glanced over to see Stan holding it out of the carnage. I would tell him thank you when I could, but judging by the expression on his face, he could tell what I was thinking.
When I felt the bullet pull, I spit it out by the other. I wiped the blood from my lips, though it did very little good to rid myself of Godric's spicy flavors. No, he did not taste bad. Quite the opposite, in fact. He tasted amazing, but in the situation, I was not able to savor the flavor as much as I wanted to.
I looked up at Stan, scared for the next part.
"Bite," I said.
"Sookie, you don't have to do this," Stan said, moving some hair out of my face.
You know, I think we tame even the most dangerous vampires. What the hell is wrong with us?! My subconscious pointed out.
You know, you have a good point. What the hell is wrong with us? Maybe we should be asking what is right with us. I replied. I had a way of finding the best in every vampire and it was odd to me, but not in a bad way. Did I really smell that good?
"Yes, I do. I am not going to let anyone who can be saved die! Now bite!" And with my final word, Stan bit me quickly, leaving two throbbing puncture wounds on my wrist. I bit the insides of my cheeks, trying to keep myself from screaming. All that came, though, was a muffled grunt. Stan looked apologetic, but I smiled and waved it off. He did what I asked him to. He had nothing to be sorry for.
I placed my wrist over Godric's mouth, trying to get him to drink. Just when I was afraid that it was useless, I felt the pull of his mouth on my blood. I was so relieved that tears formed in my eyes when Godric's opened. I felt him pull a bit more before he closed the wounds with his tongue. His brown eyes locked with my own and he pulled away.
"Go help Eric; I will watch Godric," I heard Stan say behind me. I looked at Godric for a moment.
"Go help him, little one. I will be fine now," he said with a small smile on his face.
I nodded, bringing my forehead down to his for a moment before I moved on to Eric. Stan was correct in saying that Godric had received the most damage. Eric had one bullet wound and a few pieces of shrapnel in his chest and neck. He looked unscathed compared to the way that Godric looked before I helped him. He still looked dead, yes he was, but really dead. The only thing that proved that he was still alive . . . pre-dead . . . a fucking vampire was the fact that he was not a pile of skin and blood.
I removed the shrapnel and got to work sucking the bullet that I could see out of Eric. I did not see any more until his skin slowly began to close up and I heard a "clank" on the ground from his neck.
"Stan," I said, holding out my wrist as he turned. He bit me again, but it was slow and almost painless. I smiled at him when he released my arm and winked at me. I brought my wrist to Eric's lips and three heartbeats later, I could feel the pull of my blood.
"Sookie Stackhouse, what the fuck do you think you are doing?" I heard come from behind me. Oh, shit. Bill . . .
Well, there we have it! The fourth chapter! I know, not much S/G/E in this chapter, but there will be plenty in the next two, my dearies. Until then!
Wolfe
