AN: FAIL. I just wanted to say that lately I've been getting a lot of reviews for this story and my other ones and I HATE myself for not being able to respond to every one of them. I'm going to get back on that. God. SHAME. Things are slowing down only to pick back up. School starts next week and apparently I write faster and better when I'm procrastinating, so we'll see how it goes.

If anyone is still reading this, I'm sorry for the wait.

I love you all.

Chapter 10: Crying and Collapsing

Eric didn't like to think of himself as a particularly negative person – but who was he kidding? He was as pessimistic as it came on most days. Funerals didn't help his mood. It was even worse when it was for his skating partner who was currently crying into her big oaf of a boyfriend's neck. And it was even worse because the heat was intense enough to make the happiest person consider knocking themselves out by slamming their head into a tombstone.

He moved minutely in his suit. He fantasized about sitting in the crowd of people mourning for the loss of beloved Adele Stackhouse, completely naked. The metal folding chair would feel glorious on his bare skin. The woman next to him waved her fan harder and Eric angled his head to catch some of the dry breeze. He let out a snort and leaned back in his chair, receiving several looks. He realized that only made his suit press into his sweaty skin and went back to leaning forward.

Sookie's blond head was bent in front of Eric. He saw a trickle of sweat fall down the nape of her neck and disappear into her shirt. He eyed disdainfully the bald head beside her. This was ridiculous. He felt lower than normal and wondered how much longer he'd be able to put up with Quinn, douche-bag caricature.

If anyone else knew what the priest was saying, Eric doubted it, his voice sounded warped in the swirling heat. He felt bad for glancing down at his watch. He looked at the back of Sookie's head and realized, maybe Quinn wasn't so bad for her in this moment because he wasn't so sure he'd be completely comforting in this situation. He imagined himself snapping at her for clinging to him when he was so fucking hot.

When everyone else stood for respect at the end, Eric felt shaky as he got to his feet, swaying slightly. He cursed his Nordic genetics that made him able to tolerate all amounts of cold but melt at the high temperature. He watched Sookie and Jason, through hazy vision, pay respect to their grandmother. The priest said a final prayer and then everyone began to leave, talking to one another about the heat and how wonderful Mrs. Stackhouse was. Eric shuffled through the folded chairs and let out a sigh of relief at the small air he inhaled being away from the rows of people. He looked over at Sookie who was standing next to Jason and Quinn as people came up to them to regard their sympathies.

Eric felt lost. What did he do now? Last night he had found himself curled on Sookie's couch. In conclusion, he got absolutely no sleep since his body couldn't fit on it at all. He decided he'd get a room at that disgusting looking motel in town if he decided to stay another day.

He waited in the heat for his turn to speak with Sookie and her brother. When the crowd broke off a bit he stepped forward and saw Sookie give him a small smile before stepping toward him and wrapping her arms around his torso. And for a second, he forgot about how sweaty and delirious he was.

Then he remembered when she pulled back and looked up at his face. Her brows furrowing.

"Eric? Are you okay?" she asked him. It was as if she gave him permission to be unwell and Eric Northman was collapsing in Sookie Stackhouse's arms.

He must have lost consciousness for only a few seconds for when he regained it he was with Sookie on the ground.

"Quinn, get him some water!" she snapped and her hand was pushing back his hair. "Oh God, Eric. Can you hear me?" He nodded minutely, wondering if he was crushing her body. He knew he was lying on her legs or some other body part of hers that was probably screaming in agony under his weight. She didn't seem concerned about it.

Look at him, taking the attention away from her dead grandmother. Now she was babying him in this heat. He felt like an idiot and tried to get up. "If I've learned anything with my life in the South, it's to not rush yourself in this temperature. Stay still." His head lolled back and he felt her hand push his neck up so she could put the bottled water to his lips.

He downed as much as he could before he felt another pair of hands under his arms.

"Let's get you up, big guy." He thought it must be Jason. Sookie helped with getting Eric to his feet. He was a bit shaky but he felt her hand in his.

"Can you guys give us a minute? We'll meet you back at the house."

"Sookie...are you sure?" Quinn asked warily.

"Yes," she said in that voice, that anyone with a right mind knew to listen to. He focused on his hand and hers clasped as she walked him away from her grandmother's grave. She handed him the water bottle and he gulped it down. "Better?"

He nodded, wiping at his brow. He let go of her and took off his suit jacket. Sookie took it from him and draped it over her arm.

"Can I show you something?" she asked.

An air conditioner? He thought miserably.

"Come," she said. They walked for a bit. Needless to say, the water didn't last long. Sookie pulled out another bottle from under his jacket and he took it gratefully. They stopped and Eric took a moment to realize they were standing in front of a grave that said: William T. Compton.

"Bill?" he asked hoarsely. She nodded.

"I loved him," she said.

"Of course you did."

She met his eyes. "I respected the hell out of him. He was a good partner and a good friend. I wasn't very nice to him most of the time." She smiled weakly. "I have bit of a personality dysfunction, in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I've noticed." The heat made him extra blunt.

"Thanks," she said, good humouredly. "What I'm saying is. I can be a bitch. I am a bitch. And I take it out on you and make you feel like shit and I realized this mostly when I was standing there watching my Gran get put into the ground. She would be so disappointed with my bad behaviour."

Eric wondered if it was the heat that made her say these things. They made him faint like a girl, so maybe they made Sookie finally apologetic.

"I've also realized...Quinn is a mistake."

Did the sun make him hallucinate? "I know this already," he said, smiling at her.

"I used him to make you jealous."

"It worked."

She pursed her lips. "I'm sorry." Her small shrug almost had him rambling about how he didn't care and then maybe pull her in for a kiss. Then he realized, he'd already done enough girly things today and crying about his feelings wasn't another one he needed to add to the list.

"Okay. I'm sorry about your grandma."

Sookie didn't say anything for a moment. "Me too."

Eric glanced back down at Bill's grave and wondered if he ever felt as frustrated as Eric when it came to Sookie Stackhouse. He thought about that for only a millisecond before he came to the conclusion that, he was pretty fucking sure that him and Bill would've related quite a bit over their ice skating partner.

"I'm probably going to catch a plane out of here tonight. I'll drive to Baton Rouge as soon as we get back to the house," Eric said, giving her a side-long glance.

"Oh, okay. Um, tell Pam I'll be back on the ice real soon. I'll leave in a couple days, I just have a few more things to settle," her voice grew small. He leaned over and pulled her into his side, despite it all. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you," she sighed. He felt her snuggle up to him and he wondered if he smelled all sweaty and gross, which is what he felt.

He kissed her head again before pulling away and feeling more than ready to get back to the snow. "Tell me," he said as they made their way up the small hill to her house. "Is it always this hot in November?"

"Well," she said. "It is record-breaking heat for this time of year, but you're just a big abominable snowman. I can't believe you're falling over, it's really not that bad." Her laughter sounded nice.

He shook his head. "I was made for snow."

"I was made for sun." She jumped up a couple steps on the porch and for once they were close to each other's height. "We're so opposite and yet so alike." She slapped a hand on his shoulder and kept it there. "Thanks for coming, Eric. It means a lot." He saw her eyes search his face and wondered if he dreamt her tongue flick out and lick her lips. Was she moving closer? "I, just, I wouldn't be able to be okay without you." Her eyes were definitely on his lips, he felt a moment of glee then panic. He turned his head slightly.

He wasn't sure what else to say. "Tell Jason goodbye for me." She nodded almost disappointed, he noticed. He did them both a favour and broke away from her touch and turned back to the rental car.

He drove down the narrow drive and onto the highway, thinking over everything. Her hair in the sunlight, her softness, her warmth – she had caught him when he fell. What was she to him? She loved him. So what? As a friend? Why did he care? He shook the steering wheel and realized he just wanted to get out of the South and back to somewhere, anywhere that had snow. He wanted a brisk breeze and gloves and boots. Bitterness, like his personality.

He needed to get away from Sookie Stackhouse. He needed space.

But how could he get that when they worked together? When they were partners? When she's telling him she loves him in a cemetery? How fucking symbolic was that?

He thought about the heat, the pressure, the way her skin glowed, her breath, her scent, her tears...This was going to be a long drive. He turned up the air in the car and switched on the radio, wanting to distract his brain from Sookie.

No amount of music or reading could busy his mind the whole flight and he found himself napping on the plane with dreams of her. His first thought awake when they landed was, of course, Sookie.

He felt claustrophobic around all these people and needed something he could separate from his impromptu trip.

When he stepped out of the terminal, he breathed in a sigh of relief as light snow fell onto the ground. This was where he belonged. Most of the unease he felt the entire trip, drifted away into the night. He set off through the parking lot, hoping that he could find his car and leave in a reasonable amount of time. He checked his phone while waiting in the line of cars trying to get onto the highway. He leaned back and saw three missed messages.

"Eric, you are so romantic. Flying down to hick-ville to save your precious partner from big bad Death, but listen, asshole, you and her need to get your asses back into practice. I know she lost her grandmother and all that, blah, blah, shit, but we have the World Tournament in two months and I didn't spend the past year getting you two together to watch it all go down to the fucking backwaters. Call me soon."

His sister was such a sentimental fool. He deleted it and hoped she was much nicer to Sookie when she talked to her.

"Hey, it's me. I hope you arrived safely. Pam just called me and was really nice, but something tells me she bitched to you about my absence. I figure I'll be making my way back up north to you in the next couple days. Tell Pam not to worry, I don't think she believed me when I said I'd return. I think she expects me to get knocked up by the first gap-toothed hometown boy I meet at the Piggly Wiggly. See you soon."

Eric sighed and had to force himself to delete it. There was no need to save it, expect maybe to hear her voice again and – what was he becoming? A man with little or no self-respect.

"Hey, Eric, it's Alcide. Maria and I were going to the bar tonight and I'm not sure if you're back yet or not, but it'd be great if you can come out and meet us. Call me."

He weighed his options, while pulling his car into his driveway. He could either wallow in self-pity or force himself to get a life. He changed and got out of his suit, he wondered how he had handled being in it all day. He sat in front of the TV and considered just staying in. As reluctant as he was to leave his comfortable position on the couch, he got up and headed back out, opting to walk to the bar. That way he could get drunk and not have to worry about driving. He could make good decisions on occasion. Right now, he wasn't so sure stepping away from a kissy-face Sookie was one of them.

His eyes searched the bar until he saw his friends. Alcide and Maria seemed surprised to see him, which didn't make much sense to Eric when they had called and invited him. Another woman joined them at their table and he recognized her as Amelia, Sookie's friend. He smiled at her slightly, not really knowing much about her. He eyed the situation he was in and hoped his friends and Amelia didn't notice that it looked like they were on a double date. He ordered a beer and finished his first, quickly.

"How's our Sookie doing?" Eric looked over and noticed that Alcide and Maria were gone. He glanced back over at Amelia and saw that most of the bar was empty. He looked down at the table and saw quite a few empty glasses and he wondered how much time had passed and how much he had drank. Everything was fuzzy and he felt unable to hold himself upright.

"Oh, she's good."

"Was she upset?"

"Yes, yes she was." His head drooped down to his chest and he wondered if he could get away with sleeping in the booth for the night. He was here often and the tab he gave to this bar was surely enough for rent for a month.

Amelia was beside him and she was very close. He leaned his head against hers, and he wasn't sure if those were her lips on his neck. His hand came down onto her shoulder and he looked down just when she moved up. Her head hit his chin and his teeth clamped down. They laughed slightly before their lips were meshed together in a drunken, sloppy kiss.

He was pushed away and Amelia laughed. "Alright, big guy, I don't think I'm nearly as drunk as you to make this poor decision. Let's get you home."

Everything was disjointed and disconnected as they made their way out of the bar and the few blocks back to his place. Amelia had her arm around his waist and he wasn't sure if he was leaning on her or not. She somehow got him up the porch steps and Eric gratefully leaned against the wall.

"Eric, where's your keys?" He started patting at his pockets and Amelia ended up going into them for him. She found the keys and opened the door. He moved slowly and Amelia closed them in his house. "I see that stairs will be an issue and you're probably too big for the couch."

Eric held onto the railing trying to gain enough sense to take steps.

"I'm kind of worried that you won't survive the night. You drank a lot, which probably isn't too much for a man of your size, but it's enough to worry me." He broke through his bedroom door and collapsed onto his bed. He felt someone tugging at his feet and thought Amelia must be taking off his shoes. "I'll be here in the morning to make sure you're still alive and then we can get hang over food. Alright, Eric?"

"Yes," he spoke into the mattress. He felt hands move his head to the side so he could breathe easier.

"Okay, goodnight." The lights were turned off and so did his body.