A/N: The characters belong to Charlaine Harris. The mistakes belong to me.

Chapter Ten - Discombobulated

My body was shaken violently, rousing me from the sweet painlessness of unconsciousness. Every muscle in my body twitched and spasmed as a loud, rhythmic siren screeched in my ear. My face and body writhed against the broken bed I was propped against. The broken bed tore into my face as my heart screamed at me, thumping so loudly, I was sure it would beat out of my chest. I could taste blood.

I slumped to the uneven ground, incapable of holding myself up any longer. A hand moved beside me, pulling something I had landed on out from under me. That was more comfortable. Not by much, but it was an improvement. The hand was replaced by a pair of feet shuffling quickly across the gravel ground, away from me, and into the darkness. Were they getting help? I certainly hoped so. Someone needed to shut up that stupid electronic screaming. I coughed on the blood in my mouth, my head lolling to the side to spit it out before it choked me. My eyes fluttered as light and music flooded into the parking lot from the opposite direction the feet had traveled.

"This your way of telling me you want your keys back?" That was Tray's voice. There was a chirping, but I didn't think it was a bird. I heard his heavy footsteps walking closer, then running. "Eric? Eric?" A figure swam into view over me, but I couldn't make out the face. "Oh shit. Eric, stay with us. I'll get help. Alcide! Jason! Help!" Feet were running and I closed my eyes, more tired than I had ever been before in my life. I wondered if Tray was okay and why he needed help…

"…got him in the back and in the head." It was Terry Bellefleur's voice, I didn't know who he was talking to. My eyes fluttered open. He was next to me, leaning over me- no, he was holding me- but I couldn't really make him out. There was someone on my other side, dark and somber, and I strained to make the face out. Alcide. The world was dark and blurry. I was acutely aware I was on the ground, which meant Terry and Alcide were too. I wasn't sure why. I wasn't sure who they were talking about either.

Terry's face swam into view over me as he looked down at me. "Eric," he breathed a sigh of relief, like he was surprised to see me. "Stay with me, soldier. It's going to be okay." Stay with him? Where was I going to go? I wanted to ask, but my eyelids felt strangely heavy all of the sudden and my mouth didn't want to form the words. He'd just have to wait a minute until I could gather my thoughts. I was sure he'd understand…

"…a lot of blood. Do you know his type, in case they need it?" Jason. His voice was shaky, emotional. Something had happened, something bad, I could gather. I opened my eyes and could make out flashing, bright lights around the dark backdrop of the sky, but little more than that. Figures swam in and out of view over me. I couldn't recognize them. My body was moving, but it wasn't by my doing. "We're followin' behind it. We'll meet you there."

Who were we following where? Jason's voice was getting farther away. I wanted to yell out that I was being taken in the wrong direction, but I couldn't. The sky over me disappeared and was replaced with a roof and bright light. An unfamiliar face swam in over me. "Stay with us, Mr. Northman. Can you hear me? Move your hand for me if you can."

I wanted to yell at him. Where the fuck did everyone seem to think I was go…

"… to stay with him, he's my brother!" Pam? I opened my eyes and regretted it immediately. The room I was in was blindingly bright. Blurs that I quickly concluded were people were moving around me, talking to one another.

"And he needs you to wait out here. He'll be fine. We'll let you know when you can see him." Who the hell was speaking for me? I didn't recognize the voice. I wanted to see Pam. She sounded upset about something. I'd be able to calm her down. It was what I did. I closed my eyes to keep the blinding light away while I willed myself to yell at the stranger…

I didn't want to open my eyes.

My head was buzzing in an uncomfortable, irritating way and it felt heavy, even though I was aware I wasn't supporting it. A dull ache seemed to originate and spread outward from my face. My mouth felt dry. My body was sore, especially my back.

What the hell happened?

I was aware of the fact I wasn't in my bed. My bed was more comfortable than this, that much I was sure of. This bed was rigid and unfriendly, not to mention smaller than anything someone my size could really be comfortable in. The sheets- if they could be called that- were scratchy, stiff, and unfamiliar under my fingertips. I didn't like them. I didn't care much for the pillow my head was resting on either. It was thin and flimsy and the case on it wasn't nearly as soft as what I was accustomed to. Comfort was clearly not the focus here.

Neither was atmosphere. My nostrils flared and I regretted it immediately. The pain from my face I felt didn't cover up the unwelcome smell that greeted me. It wasn't as if the room I found myself smelled foul, quite the opposite really. It was clean… too clean. Sterile. Everything was too quiet as well. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes. It was respectful. It was frightened.

I did the mental addition in my head. It equaled that I was in the hospital. That was good to know.

Now why the fuck was I in the hospital? How long had I been here?

I tried to recall the last thing I could remember while behind the safety of my eyelids without drawing attention to myself from anyone lurking around. I was sure if I opened my eyes, someone nearby would be quick to jump to my side and I'd be overwhelmed by information, news, and reactions I wasn't sure I was ready for. I needed to figure out as much as I could on my own before anyone had the chance of inundating me with medical jargon or lectures.

I had been drinking at Terry's with the boys, right? Yes, I could remember that, but everything else was, at best, hazy. Had I been in an accident? I couldn't remember ever leaving the bar. Had I gotten that drunk? That wasn't like me. Not only could I hold my liquor, but I only let myself get really shitfaced when in my own house. Usually I was the responsible one and I was routinely a designated driver without a word of protest. Had I thrown my norm out the window? No, I was confident I wouldn't let myself be that guy, the statistic waiting to happen.

I had been upset though, hadn't I? I faintly remembered talking to my father. Had he driven me to do something stupid? No, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of that. I never let a phone call last long enough between the two of us for me to get too upset. Something happened at the bar to upset me. I tried to replay the events and the tool's face swam into view. Had he been there? Yes, I could remember that now. He had wanted to know where Sookie was. Terry had thrown him out. We had been concerned for her. I had called Pam to warn her and ask her for help…

Figured out or not, I needed to open my eyes as that shadow of a memory entered my mind. I needed information more than I needed my solitude. I opened my eyes and the room swam into view around me. My vision was unfocused and blurry, but I could make out the familiar blonde figure beside me, resting at an uncomfortable angle in a chair. Sleeping, probably. I felt almost guilty to be waking her.

"Pam?" I felt like I was testing myself, making sure I could still speak through the haze. My voice was raspy and quiet, but it was enough to make my guest stir in the chair, hands lifting to rub the slumber from her eyes. Her head turned to look at me and seeing me awake, her hand quickly reached out and grabbed my own squeezing it tightly. I returned the gesture, encasing her hand with mine.

"Eric, you're awake." I could hear the relief in her voice and immediately wondered how long I had been out. "Let me get the doctor-"

"No," I interrupted. It lacked the conviction I would have liked to have, but it stopped her from standing and releasing my hand just the same. "Is Sookie okay?"

"Sookie?" she echoed back, disbelief in her voice. I was seeing her face more clearly now and concern was written on her features, along with something else. Perhaps pensiveness? I wasn't sure. "Sookie is fine. In case you didn't realize it, you are the one in a hospital bed. You are the one who's been drifting in and out of consciousness. You are the one who lost so much blood. You are the one who's scared me and half a dozen others to death all night long. You are the one who was attacked-"

"I was attacked?"

She rested her other hand over mine and began petting it. Pam wasn't much of a comforter, but I appreciated her attempt. "You don't remember?"

"Yes. No. I don't really know. I want to remember, I kind of do, but it's hazy. I remember calling you. I did do that, didn't I?" I looked to her and she nodded her head, so I continued. "It had to happen from behind. I would have said something to you if someone was coming at me. Did I?" She shook her head this time. "I remember my head hurting, like I was hit by something. I think I was bleeding, but everything feels like a dream."

"Nightmare," she corrected wistfully before sighing. "The police want to speak to you about it."

"I won't be able to help them. I was actually hoping you or one of the guys could tell me what unfolded."

"I don't think it will really matter if you remember or not. Bon Temps' sheriff's department has already made an arrest."

My eyes widened slightly in surprise before I groaned in pain. I released Pam's hand and lifted mine to my face, feeling gingerly across my skin. The tender spots were ample, butterfly stitches littered my brow, cheeks, and jaw, and my nose was broken. My lip had been stitched. "You have two black eyes as well," Pam supplied in what I was sure she thought was a helpful manner. It made me feel worse. "There are a few cuts on the back of your head and neck that they stopped the bleeding of without stitching once they had the pieces of bottle out, and one by your ear that needed stitching. You lost a lot of blood." My head lifted and my fingers moved over the bandaging behind me as she summarized my war wounds, trying to make sense of them. I traced the odd line of broken skin carefully. It was a strange angle. "And you were hit with a stun gun."

"Anything else?" I asked bitterly, even though it wasn't her fault. It was impossible not to be pissed off. If the police wanted to know if I wanted to file charges, the answer was going to be a fuck yes.

"You've flitted in and out of consciousness for over ten hours." She hesitated and I could tell there was something bad coming. "The damage to your face was done on your car. Tray told me to tell you not to worry, he will replace the windshield for you."

"Fuck." My poor baby.

"It's a good thing you let him drive last night. If he hadn't had your keys, they may have let your car alarm go off for some time waiting for you to turn it off before checking to see why you weren't. As it was, Tray found you before I even had a chance to call one of them and find out what had happened to you. You were lucky."

"I feel fucking lucky." The sarcasm wasn't lost on Pam and she smiled, but it wasn't sincere. I couldn't blame her. None of this felt like a smiling matter. "Anything else?"

"No, that about covers it."

"Well then? Who did it? Who was arrested?"

"Bill Compton. He was seen at the bar harassing you and the others, witnessed by many. A witness claimed to see him skulking about the parking lot after he was thrown out. The stun gun with fresh blood on it was found in his car when the sheriff Sookie charmingly called "Bud" went to question him."

I reflected on that for a moment. Was it surprising? No, not really, but it was disappointing. I had labeled the tool spineless and a coward from the moment I had met him, but using a stun gun as a great equalizer between the two of us was low, even for a douchebag like him. For the big game he had talked, I hadn't expected something so… underhanded. He seemed more the kind to slap my face in public and challenge me to a duel at dawn for Sookie's honor. A desperate act from a desperate man, I supposed.

"Good." It seemed the only appropriate response. It was good. At least Sookie would be safe as long as he was being held. I imagined he'd make bail, but she could always look into a restraining order. She had a decent chance of getting one considering he'd been arrested for a violent crime.

"He maintains his innocence." I snorted, then winced from the action. "He insists he has been set up."

"Like I did it to myself?"

She shrugged indifferently. "Obviously no one believes him. It's an open and shut case, with or without you remembering any of it or being able to name your attacker."

"Good. When can I get out of here?"

"That's why you need to see the doctors," she pointed out. "I can get them now, if you're ready for it."

"Yeah, let's get it over with. I want to go home."

She nodded, standing from the chair, but made no move towards the door. "I hate hospitals, you know. It reminds me so much of-"

I had to interrupt her. "I know."

She shook her head. "No, I need to say it and you need to hear it. It reminds me so much of mom. The last time a loved one went into one of these, they never emerged. All night, I've wondered if you would wake up. No reassurances from the doctors helped at all. Why would they? How many times did they say mom was having a good day only for her pain to be written all over her face? Then I watched you lay there, dead to the world, bloodied and bruised and broken and it terrified me, Eric."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, almost angrily. I didn't want to hear it, especially not right now. I wanted to speak to the doctor. I wanted the results of any tests they had subjected me to. I wanted to get released and get the fuck home, to my nice, comfortable bed and a really stiff drink to cut the ache that spread radiated through me in throbbing misery. "I'm fine, Pam. Don't talk like this. You knew I was going to be fine."

"No, I didn't know that. You didn't know that. No one knew that. We still don't know that. Do you know how many things can go wrong with a trauma like yours? Things that won't show for days or even for weeks?" She lifted a hand to her face and wiped away a few tears. I was tempted to call her on it.

"Wow, your optimism is really helping right now. I'm so glad you're the one here with me to support me in my time of need. It's exactly what I need, just like a ray of fucking sunshine…"

"Shut up and listen to me," she snapped back and I bit my tongue. "I told you I didn't want to see you get hurt…"

"This wasn't what you were talking about when you said it and you know it-"

She held up a hand to stop me and I sighed. "I told you I didn't want to see you get hurt and I meant it. Seeing you broken, seeing you in pain… it hurts me, Eric. I feel it as clearly as if it were my own. You and my dad are all I have left in this world and the thought of losing either of you- losing even a part of you- is the scariest thing I can think of." She took a deep, shaky breath and I reached over to take her hand, frustrated with this conversation as I was. "I'm selfish. I can admit that. I don't want to lose my big brother. It's losing my best friend at the same time. I don't want anyone to take away any part of you-"

"This isn't Sookie's fault." I needed her to know that. Not even a small part of me felt like it was. Her ex may have been psychotic, but I'd rather have that be exposed through me than in any other way. She couldn't hold Sookie responsible for his actions.

"I didn't say it was," she corrected softly, and once more, I bit my tongue. She took another deep breath and willed herself onward. "At first, I felt that way. When Jason called and told us what happened and that you were on your way here, even before anyone had been questioned, I assumed it was the Compton guy. I blamed her. I was furious with her. If it wasn't for her, you never would have known him. Amelia insisted I allow her to come to the hospital. If I had been in any condition to fight her on it, I would have."

"Pam…" I warned, but she lifted a hand to stop me.

"I'm not done. We were already here when the ambulance with you got in from Bon Temps. When we first got a glimpse of you… I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life. I wasn't the only one. At first I thought she was just guilty, she blamed herself after all which I thought was appropriate, but it wasn't just guilt. She was as scared of losing you as I was, even when the doctors insisted you would be fine. Everything I felt was written on her face."

Was she trying to make me feel guilty now? If that was the goal, it was working. I hadn't intentionally taken a cheap shot and wound up Bill's bitch. If I could do it all over again, I'd have paid much more attention to my surroundings. I'd have made sure one of the guys went with me. I'd have just asked Terry for the use of his office…

I didn't have to voice it. She saw the question on my face and gave me a sad smile. I wasn't sure what she was trying to do, but she wasn't trying to make me feel guilty. It was just an unintended side effect of whatever she was trying to say. "I couldn't hold her responsible when your pain was hers too. I couldn't be mad at her when her feelings mirrored my own… slightly different, backwards, but still the same."

"I'm not sure what you're trying to get to," I admitted, and she shook her head to keep me quiet. Whatever this was, it was taking a lot for her to say it. I had to respect her wishes.

"When you only just regained consciousness, the very first thing you do is ask about her safety. I can't understand what this is between the two of you or how it's happened so quickly. I don't think either one of you understand it either. None of it makes sense, but I don't know that these things are supposed to. I am sure of one thing. I have lost a piece of you."

"You haven't lost any-"

"Whether you're ready to admit it to yourself or not, I have. There's been a change in you and there's no going back when changes like this happen. You're not the same man you were the last time we saw one another. Don't apologize for it," she added, holding up a hand to stop me before I could start. I guess she didn't know I wasn't going to start. If she was right- and that was a big fucking if- I definitely wasn't ready to admit it to myself, but I would never apologize for it. "I always knew it would happen one day even though I don't think you knew it. I'm jealous. Maybe of her. Maybe of you. Maybe it's a combination of both.

"No matter which it is," she continued with a small shake of her head, "I want you to know that even though I am jealous, I don't want to lose the parts of you I have left. I may not understand this, I may think you're completely insane for putting yourself through it, but I would rather gain family than lose anymore. I hope you're willing to share a part of Sookie with me and won't push me away, even if you probably have good reason to do so."

I knew that (this time) she wasn't talking about sex and I gave her a small smile, even though it hurt to do. "Pam, you're my sister… the only one I'll ever have, and that's a damn good thing because you're more than enough." She gave me a small smirk back. "Nothing is going to change that, ever." I lifted our joined hands to my lips and gave the back of hers a brief kiss before releasing it. "You're always going to be my favorite girl, no matter what."

She rested her hand on my cheek very carefully and smiled. "I know better than that now, you liar, but thank you. Maybe we can have the same favorite girl again eventually." She leaned down and kissed my forehead lightly before stepping back and away from the side of my bed. She grabbed her purse off the floor opened it, withdrawing a compact and setting it on the side of the bed. "So you can see you look like shit," she explained, turning off the emotion of her confession and plea as quickly as she had turned it on. I reached for the compact as she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of me. "And that is so I can make sure you never forget it, nor your time in that awful, tacky hospital gown that does nothing for your complexion. I'll get the doctor now and be back when he's through. I have some calls to make and you have me very behind schedule. You can make it up to me with something Chanel."

Without another word, her pricy heals were clacking across the floor of the hospital room and she was slipping out the door.

I wasn't nearly as good as turning off my thoughts as Pam was, and she had given me a hell of a lot to think about. Her accusations- that's what I needed to think of them as- were surprising and a little overwhelming. If I understood her correctly, she was all but accusing me of being in love with Sookie Stackhouse. Me. Me. It was ridiculous. It was preposterous. It was ludicrous.

But it wasn't impossible.

I didn't. I was sure of that… or as sure of it as I could be of anything when Pam was turning my world upside down with her emotional confession and thoughts. I didn't love Sookie, but a part of me thought I could. It was too soon, it was too fast, it was too much, too quickly, but one day? One day, I could see it happening. One day I could see myself comfortable with that. That in itself was terrifying and new. To be thinking of a "one day" at all was strange to me. I didn't think down the road, not when it came to women, aside from trying to think of ways to cut my ties with them without having them causing a scene on my doorstep. I didn't want to think about that with Sookie though. I didn't want to think of an end. We had only just begun and everything about our beginning seemed wrong, but something did feel inherently right about it. Something felt right about her. If Pam's description of Sookie the night before was even half true, she felt the same way about me.

"It's good to see you awake, Eric," an older man with white hair in a white lab coat began, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm Dr. Brigant. You have had a number of people very worried about you." He dropped a file to a cart before rinsing his hands in a nearby sink. "Even I'm relieved to see you awake."

I considered that for a moment before I smirked just a little bit. "How many threatened you?"

He laughed, amused I was so perceptive. "Just one, but they were quite persistent."

"Pam." He nodded in confirmation while drying his hands. "If it makes you feel any better, despite what she says, she loves her couture too much to actually use any of it as a weapon."

He laughed again and the sound relaxed me. I didn't like hospitals or doctors anymore than Pam did, but Dr. Brigant was comforting, even if unfamiliar. I had seen a lot of doctors who were as clinical as the rooms they operated in. In such a profession, I imagined it was kind of inevitable. His general ease and less severe nature was calming. I felt I was in capable hands. "I thought she was relatively harmless."

"I don't think I'd go that far," I warned and he laughed again, a twinkle in his eye.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Without further ado, he launched into his examination, asking me questions and evaluating my answers. He went over what I had undergone, let me ask questions, and gave me answers. He gave me good news (everything was looking good on my scans and tests, my foggy vision would clear up in a few days), he gave me bad news (he wanted to keep me until the next morning for observation, I would need to work from home for a while, and shouldn't drive).

Overall, the worst news I had received today had come from Pam and that was that my baby had been hurt.

Nurses followed his visit, buzzing about checking bandages, cleaning me up, and flirting shamelessly even when I tried to fake sleep. I had checked Pam's mirror at one point and couldn't figure out what in the hell they were thinking flirting with me at present, unless it had more to do with my chart than me. I needed to change my last name. I had been left a tray of questionable cuisine when they finally vacated the room and let me be. I let it sit, choosing instead to drift into a very welcomed, dreamless sleep.

"Eric. Psssst, Eric. Eric. Pssssst." The harsh whisper was coming right from my ear. I didn't know if I wanted to open my eyes. I wasn't ready for the next round of desperate health care providers quite yet. "Eric… are you sleeping?" That wasn't a woman's voice. I knew this voice well. "Pssst, Eric." There was a long beat of pause before the intruder spoke aloud only a few inches from my ear. "Hey, Eric. Eric!"

"What do you want, Jason?" I asked without opening my eyes.

"Oh good, you're awake. I'd have felt bad if I woke you up," he responded and I heard the chair Pam had been in earlier drag across the floor as he moved closer to the bed. "You gonna eat this?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed as I opened my eyes. It felt good to do, even if some of my muscles didn't seem to appreciate it much at all. "Nah, help yourself. I was hanging onto it just in case any wayward visitors decided to stop by in search of a crappy meal my insurance company is paying for."

"Good man," he mumbled, mouth already full of what I suspected was jello. "How you feelin'?"

I raised the bed a little and watched him diving into the tray o' crap like it was a gourmet meal. He was still in his dusty and dirty work clothes, which meant he had come straight to the Shreveport hospital after getting off. Coming from Jason, that was almost a touching gesture. "I've felt better."

"Yeah, you've looked better too." Why did people keep commenting on that? Was it supposed to make me feel good to be reminded I looked like shit? Jason may have driven Pam crazy and vice versa, but they were cut from the same cloth when it came to how they were with me. "When you getting out of here?"

"If I can keep up my good behavior, the warden says I'll be sprung after dawn." Jason stared at me blankly and I tried not to laugh again. "Tomorrow. The doctor says I can leave tomorrow if everything still looks good."

He nodded and dug into something that might have been mashed potatoes. "Good. You gonna need a ride? Alcide, Tray, or me would take the day off to help you get set up at home-"

"Jase, you don't have to do that. None of you do. I'll be fine. Pam can get me home."

"There ain't nothin' 'bout this situation that's fine, Eric. All of us feel fuckin' lousy we weren't with you. We take our licks together. That shithead cheap shottin' you never should've happened. That son of a bitch is lucky Bud and Andy got him locked up behind bars. It's for his own protection as much as anyone else's."

"Don't think I don't know it," I agreed. I had good fucking friends who were loyal to their very cores. As that thought entered my head, for a brief moment, I actually pitied Bill Compton. Sure, I was the one in a hospital bed, starving for some real food, uncomfortable in a bad bed, aching and sore and anxious to go home, but I was still one lucky bastard. Even Dr. Brigant had noticed how cared for I was. Pam had made it clear both her and Sookie were distraught over me and panged by my pain. I had three friends falling over themselves to drive me home, three friends who I knew in a heartbeat would have traded places with me just to not to see me where I was and like I was. What did Bill have? Would anyone in the world trade places with him to see him out of the situation he was in? Maybe that ho Lorena…

But then I remembered her cold words from the night of the charity event, words I hadn't been able to figure out the meaning of. "We all need our little amusements, don't we?" No matter what she had meant, I couldn't imagine anyone who'd say something like that to a stranger had the compassion to sympathize, even with the father of their child.

It didn't make any of what the tool had done to me okay, but in a way- in a very small way- I understood. Sookie was all he had had, the only person who was loyal to him and who would have taken his place for him and he had lost her… to me. Sure, he had lost her because of his own actions and choices, but would he have lost her if I hadn't been there to support her and to pick up the pieces? Would he have lost her if I hadn't been there to encourage her to give up on him and give me a chance instead? Hypothetical questions aside, hadn't I been quick to rub salt in his wounds, basking in all I had and how little he was left with?

I didn't regret any of it, he had deserved it all by his own doing, and would deserve everything that met him now because of his actions, but that small part of me wouldn't stop pitying him.

It was probably because a big part of me was surprised to be alive. It was scary to think I could be dead, but his acts were the actions of a desperate man who had lost it all already… and I hadn't even taken his job away from him yet. He hadn't even tried to conceal his crime. He went to a place he had just been thrown out of in front of dozens of people. He attacked the most obvious target- his competition- and used the most expensive car ever at Terry's bar as a weapon when he had to know the car would have an alarm. He had to know I would be found right away and at least suspect I would survive, but he still hadn't bothered to cover up the evidence in his car of his dirty deed. Either he was too arrogant to think he'd get caught or he already knew no matter what, he stood no chance in getting Sookie back. Why not at least make sure I never got her either?

I'd be counting my blessings for a long, long time coming.

"I don't want anyone retaliating on my behalf," I continued and Jason didn't look pleased to hear that. "He's not worth it. I'm going to be fine. It's a couple cuts, some bruising, and a broken nose, it's not the end of the world. He's in custody now. No one needs to do anything stupid and wind up there themselves."

"He has it comin', Eric. Can you imagine if it had been Sookie he-"

I had to interrupt him. "No, and I don't want to imagine. It wasn't Sookie. That's all that matters." I hesitated, but I was pretty sure Jason knew my question before it came. "How is she?"

He pulled the cap he was wearing off his head and wiped his brow. "Shaken and upset, but holdin' it together. She didn't want to leave last night, but with you bein' in here, she knew she had to work in the morning to take care of your schedule. She feels more guilty than Alcide, Tray, and me put together…"

"It's not her fault."

"I know that, you know that, but try tellin' her that. Maybe she'll listen to you. Anyway, we're takin' real good care of her. Amelia's keepin' an eye on her. She'll be just fine. Worry 'bout gettin' yourself better." I nodded and Jason stood up from the chair before fishing into his pocket and pulling out a very scuffed up phone. I recognized it immediately. It felt like a missing limb was being returned to me. "Got this off the ground last night. I'm probably not supposed to be givin' it to ya, but what no one else knows won't hurt 'em, right?"

I gave him a small smirk of appreciation. "Right. Thanks, Jase."

"You change your mind 'bout a ride, you let me know, man."

"I will. See you soon." He gave me a nod and headed for the door and the moment it had closed behind him, I was turning the phone on, blissfully unaware whether or not it was allowed in the hospital or not. To be honest, I didn't care. I had a signal and some battery. That was all that mattered to me. I ignored the messages waiting for my attention and scrolled through my contacts until I found the number I wanted and dialed it immediately. Laying back in bed, I tried to conceal the phone as best I could while listening to it ring.

"Northman & Davis, Eric Northman's office. This is Sookie. How can I help you today?" There was a fake cheeriness in her voice I caught right away. She sounded tired and strained, but just hearing her made me feel a little better.

"Miss Stackhouse, that's a loaded question if I have ever heard one," I answered, unable to keep myself from smirking despite the fact that it stung. "Would you like me to start a list of ways you could help me or would you like to show some initiative and creativity and see if it meets my needs?"

"Oh my gosh," she breathed into the phone. "Pam said you were awake, but I'm so relieved to hear your voice."

"I could say the same to you. How are things going there?"

"Stressful," she admitted. "But nothing for you to worry about. We're takin' care of it all. Sam's been talkin' to the Dallas office and takin' over everything that needed your attention today."

"Thank him for me and apologize for me that it won't be changing soon. I'll be working from home for the remainder of the week, doctor's orders." Normally, I'd have fought such orders or disregarded them entirely, but I'd prefer to be less bruised and more myself when I stepped foot in the office again. Image meant a lot. "There are a few meetings on my schedule I'll need him to take in his office and conference me in-"

"You're still in the hospital, Eric. All of this can wait until you're settled in at home. Everyone here is more worried about you than any of that. We wanted to send flowers, but Pam insisted you'd prefer a purse." She giggled then. The sound was more delicious now than ever. "Is there somethin' you oughta be tellin' me?"

"Just that my sister is a conniving bitch, but I think word is already out on that. Ask for her business card and you'll find it's printed on there, right beneath her name and above her phone number and email address." She giggled again and I smiled. "Listen, Sookie, if she gave you a hard time last night, I'm really so-"

"You don't have to apologize. Anything Pam put me through last night I deserved. I'm the one who's sorry." Her voice shook a little and I could tell she was near tears. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"That depends. When will I be seeing you again?"

She sniffled. "Whenever you want."

"You won't kidnap me from here, will you?"

She let out a teary laugh. "No. You have to be a good boy and listen to the doctor."

"You're a cruel woman, Sookie Stackhouse. In that case, tomorrow?" I was tempted to tell her to come over now, screw work and everything that went with it. I wanted to see her, but not here, not like this. If she was feeling guilty, she didn't need to see me looking like shit while in a hospital bed. "After your work day, obviously. I don't want to piss your boss off or anything. Everyone says he rides you really hard already, we don't need to give him another excuse to do so."

"Oh geez," she mumbled. From the sound of it, she was covering her face. "I was kinda hoping you'd forget about the teasing everyone did."

"I don't think anyone would let me forget about the teasing," I pointed out. "So tomorrow after work? I need to go to Bon Temps and make a statement about what I don't really remember, but I should be settled in by the time you're leaving."

"Do you want me to go with you? When you talk to Bud and Andy? I feel so responsib-"

"Stop, Sookie, you're not responsible. If I felt like you were, trust me, you'd know. You'd be the last person I wanted to talk to, let alone see when I get out of here. While my thoughts are on you, they're really the opposite of angry. Would you like to hear the details of them?" She let out a laugh and I'm pretty sure she called me a pig again. "I'm going to go talk to the police tomorrow on my own and then you and I are going to have dinner at my place."

"Will you let me cook?"

"We can just order something. I'm the one who owes you a meal."

"You need some good home cookin' to help you get better. Just because I'm cooking doesn't mean you won't still owe me. I'm not letting you out of it, mister."

"Then I'd like that. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You will. I'll be looking forward to it. I should get back to work. I want to be a really good girl for my boss. He's a little under the weather. I want him to know I'll take care of him and he's in very good hands." Ungh. Fuck. "Goodbye for now, Eric."

"Wait a second, don't hang up. This is very important. Sookie, are you still there?"

There was a brief moment of pause before her voice answered timidly. "Yes?"

"What are you wearing?"

She giggled into the phone, which didn't help my situation any. There should have been some rule that after what I'd been through, my body wouldn't betray me for at least a couple days, but it didn't seem to agree with me. It seemed to have trouble being obedient where Sookie was concerned. "You're impossible, Mr. Northman. I'll see you tomorrow." Without another word, she hung up the phone and I turned my own off.

I prayed to whatever deities might listen for every minute between now and then to pass as quickly as possible. I don't know which one listened, but I'd be happy to may them tribute from now on.

I slept a great deal of my remaining time in the hospital, with only a few interruptions making the stay more bearable. Alcide and Maria-Star stopped by and the Mrs. Herveaux had even managed to sneak me in some homemade brownies which became my meal for the night. Pam had stopped by with a change of clothes and some toiletries for me to get cleaned up with. Tray had stopped in to talk about my baby and to let me know he was taking the best care of it possible. Dr. Brigant had checked in along with a bevy of nurses and all seemed pleased with my condition.

I was a lucky, lucky man. If Amelia was right and I made my own luck, I really knew what I was doing.

By Tuesday afternoon, I was riding shotgun in Pam's rental minivan on my way to the blink-and-you-miss-it town of Bon Temps. I had traded in the ugly hospital gown for clean clothes, the lingering matted blood had been showered down the drain, my black eyes were concealed behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, and most of my bandages were off by either the nurses doing or my own once I had escaped. With dinner with Sookie so near on the horizon and a couple Tylenol in my system, I was feeling pretty fucking good overall.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Pam asked when she pulled up to the small parish station.

I shook my head while getting out of the car and rolling up the sleeves of the button down shirt she had brought me. "Nah, I don't know what- or who- you'll find around here to amuse you, but you don't need to stay. I'll call you when I'm done. It shouldn't take long. I don't remember much and don't think the pieces I have will be very useful."

She nodded. "Call me when you're ready then."

I headed into the station as Pam pulled away from the curb and was greeted by an officer named Kevin. He was the only one in the station because all the other officers (three in total) were at lunch. Welcome to Bon Temps.

He hung up the phone and looked at me from his spot behind a desk. "Sheriff Dearborn and Andy will be in to talk to you in just a minute, Mr. North-"

"Eric," I corrected and he nodded dutifully.

"Sheriff Dearborn and Andy will be in to take your statement in just a few minutes, Eric. They're comin' from Terry's."

"I should have found out before I came here, but will I need my lawyer for this? I can call the company's firm if it's necessary. I'm sure I can get someone out here on this short notice." I pulled my phone from my pocket and began looking through my contacts for the appropriate number.

"Naw, Mr… Eric. That ain't necessary. He's the one who needs the lawyer, not you." He cocked his head in the direction of a hallway behind him, and I found myself leaning forward where I stood, trying to see down the way he had indicated even if it was fucking hopeless. "You want something to eat or drink while you wait? We got some coffee and donuts in the break room that aren't old or nothin'."

"How cliché," I thought aloud, but from the look he gave me, I could tell he had no idea what I was talking about. I tried not to laugh. "Uh, sure, that'd be great. I haven't had much to eat the last couple days. I'll take my coffee black and surprise me on the donut."

He gave me a friendly smile and got to his feet, revealing to me that he wasn't very tall or big at all. Even in a uniform that included a firearm, he wasn't so intimidating. It was a good thing Bon Temps wasn't a more dangerous place. He headed down a hallway, the opposite one he had tilted his head to, and I was left to wait in front of the makeshift counter. A minute ticked by and he hadn't returned. I heard every silent second of it from the large office clock that ticked on one wall of the tiny station.

Another silent minute passed slowly and I realized I was antsy. Really antsy. I shifted my weight back and forth between my feet, impatient for Officer Pryor's return, but there wasn't a single sound coming from either hallway. I turned around and faced the plate glass windows of the station. There was no sign of a patrol car carrying Bud and Andy in it. Another minute ticked by.

Fuck it. I didn't like following rules I didn't make myself anyway.

I pushed through the swinging gate and headed past the cluttered desks that were behind it. I knew why I was antsy and I wanted to cure it. If Kevin, Bud, or Andy caught me, I'd say I was concerned about how long it was taking for the coffee and donut and wanted to make sure the officer was okay. Taking the wrong hallway was an innocent mistake. I just hadn't been paying close attention. Hell, I had recently suffered a head injury and everything was a little cloudy. That was a good excuse, right?

I turned down the hallway Kevin had tilted his head toward and walked a short distance before I reached the row of holding cells. The first contained a lone man, snoring loudly, mouth hanging open. I assumed he was brought in drunk the previous night and was still sleeping it off. That was not what I was looking for. The next cell was empty. The last, however…

I didn't know what I expected to find when I laid eyes on Bill Compton again, but this wasn't it. He was pacing back and forth across the back of the cell like a caged animal. His eyes were on the floor and he was mumbling to himself, but I couldn't make out the words. He looked a little haggard, which I didn't understand either. The Bon Temps sheriff's department was no Alcatraz, and it had been less than 48 hours. He just looked defeated.

"Compton?"

He stopped pacing and his head snapped to the side to look at me. Slowly, he walked towards the bars of his cell, holding his hands up in front of him to show he didn't have a weapon. Did he think I was frightened of him? I had to stop myself from laughing. Nothing could have been further from the truth. His hands wrapped around the metal bars and he looked over what he could see of my face, studying the stitches on my lips, the bandaging and tape over my nose, and the cuts that were visible. I lifted the aviator glasses and rested them on the top of my head to let him get a good look at my black eyes. He winced.

"How is it possible?"

I looked at him blankly. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react or respond to that. "Surprised I'm not dead? Disappointed you didn't do more damage with your cheap shot?"

"No, no." He shook his head violently. "I just… I don't understand. I didn't… I don't… I never meant to… This is all my fault." Well, at least he was admitting it. "Is Sookie okay? No one will tell me anything."

"You have a lot of fucking nerve to ask me that," I growled. In this moment, like Jason had observed, the bars were for Bill's protection. I pulled the sunglasses down to rest on my healing nose again and took a step back. The more barriers between us, the better. "If you find a way to get yourself out of this mess you made, if you know what's good for you, you're going to stay away from Sookie. That's not a threat, it's a fucking promise. I have lawyers who can make you regret the day you were ever born and right now, the only thing stopping half of Bon Temps from breaking you out of here just to break you is me pitying your pathetic, pale ass, but my pity won't hold out forever."

"I deserve that," he muttered, stepping back away from the bars himself. "I don't deserve the pity."

"You're fucking right you don't-"

"Eric?" Kevin's voice called out and I turned to look towards the hall. "Mr. Northman?" He rounded the corner and stopped, coffee and donut in hand as he looked from me to the tool and back again. "You're not supposed to be back here."

"You were taking so long, I went to look for you. I'm still a little disoriented and discombobulated, I must have confused which direction you went. I'm sorry." My fake apology sounded as fake as it was, but Kevin nodded in acceptance, probably because neither Bill nor I was bleeding.

"No harm done. Let's get you to Sheriff Dearborn's office. He and Andy are pullin' in now. They'll be ready for your statement."

I nodded and took a step to follow him as he retreated in the direction he had come from, but Bill's arm shot out of the cell, grabbing my arm. I spun on my heel and pulled it from his grasp. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You really have something for taking advantage of someone's turned back, don't you?"

"Please," he pleaded in a whisper. "I know you may not believe me, but it's not what it seems. I'm sorry… for everything. This is my only chance and you're my only hope. You have to listen to me. Please."

He looked pathetic and hopeless, as broken as I had suspected he would be. His begging didn't make anything okay. His lies could only take him so far. There only seemed two words that could properly convey this juvenile man baby's best wishes to him in the situation he had created for himself. "Fuck you." I turned without another word and followed Kevin's path, determined to be leaving Bill Compton and everything he represented firmly behind me.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter and hope those who were cliffhanger upset got some resolution this time around. I really want to thank everyone who's sticking with this newbie's story. When I logged in and saw over 100 alerts on this and 50 favorites, I was really floored. So thank you again.