Sorry this took a long time. I was distracted with school and other fabulous Sookie/Eric stories. For those of my readers who want to slay Eric, I hope this will be some form of a relief. It's been so long since I've written that it seems my Eric tone may have slipped, but I was intending for this to be a turning point of some sorts in my sketch, so that's all the better. I'm hoping to get one more out later this week but we'll see!

The characters belong to Charlaine Harris.

Dead to Me: Chapter Ten: EPOV

I was eager to knock her out—the more practical choice—but I didn't take pleasure in it—somehow, with all the anger pulsing through me, the self hate, I thought it would be a relief. I haven't felt long term pain, and muscle ache since the years of my humanity, and when I noticed her pain it seemed to linger even longer.

I would not bring her to my home—my nest. I had learned when a woman was sated with this much emotion—and there was a lot there; she usually took it out on the one who wouldn't support her habit. Meaning me. Usually, I didn't let it get to this point—however—with Sookie—she was more determined than most humans, and there were too many strings attached for me to take the risk of cutting her off.

Her hair: I know I should've looked away when she took the shards to her neck—or even for that matter jerked the sharp object away, which could have potentially ended her life. It was hard to imagine her without something that was such a part of her to be gone. It was her hair I noticed before her smell, supple skin, and heaving chest. Weeks after we sharedblood, her hair would glow my highlights and I would take glee in knowing what others only needed moments to realize. She was mine.

These days apart had been difficult—I was always aware of the missing pulsing, unlike I had ever been before, and for some reason, it seemed that this was common, but it bothered me that I hadn't noticed it before. My evenings followed a routine; I would call Amelia, check in with Pam, drive to her home, and then return to Fangtasia. I felt the stressful pull on my mind of the days when Hallow's curse had just been broken; as if there was something missing that I was unaware of, but now that she was here, placed where I wanted her—it seemed ordinary--as if nothing had manifested itself in my mind.

The only minor pain I felt through the bond was the reminder of my tough week. I had been teleconferencing with Felipe randomly—and he was always asking of "Miss—Stack HAUS". Sandy decided this was the time to make drop-ins and expected one-on-one attention--not to mention the stress of the arrival and departure of my maker. It did not miss my attention that she had gone missing when he had arrived, when I was kissing his ass.

We pulled up to Caroline and I lifted her out of her seat, passing her to Pam's arms while I did a quick survey of the property. I hadn't been here but once or twice before and needed to formulate a plan for our evening. I took a towel from the bathroom off the foyer and laid it across the kitchen tiles. I placed a bar stool on top of the towel, but decided to swap it for a stool with a backing. I thought about calling Niall and decided against it—he had permitted this amount of damage in the first place.

"I don't think she'll…" Pam interrupted my train of thought and I analyzed her face which seemed to be doing the same with me. I searched my child's purposes, checking the maker/child bond.

"She'll be ready for the Were summit. Besides, it is not your ass if she does not."

Pam nodded curtly, and started to place Sookie onto the couch; I stopped her, "I did not say you could put her down. Are your arms tired?"

The sarcasm was not lost on her and she looked down ashamed. A part of me regretted my sharp words but there was no place for weakness not in this point of my life. I clambered through all the cupboards without luck of finding what I wanted. I found a set of wine glasses below the sink—who—in god's name—would put those there? I took a razor from the side of my Boot and drew a line across my wrist. The surge of pain was comforting from the dull ache I felt from my Bonded. I squeezed the tendons to get as much out as I could and started a new flow from my right wrist. With half an inch left between the rim of the glass and my blood, I sipped. I opened the freezer and took out two ice cubes. I dropped them in the glass, and swirled it forcing the clear glass to be coated red.

I waited a couple of minutes for the ice cubes to thin my blood, and seem more pleasant for her. I willed consciousness through the bond. "Sookie," I tried to balance the correct ratio of authority and care in my voice. "Sookie, my lover, I need you to wake up."

There was no reason for her to know that she hadn't just slumped to sleep. I rubbed the pads of my cold fingers under her eyes and breathed a cool pant across her face. Her eyes fluttered until they locked in mine. She tensed for a moment, realizing she wasn't in my arms but seemed to realize she was safe without looking to see it was my child. "I need you to drink this and keep it down; can you do that for me?"

She nodded without looking at the glass. I brought the chalice up to her lips, interrupting her sightline and she pressed herself away from me, into Pam's chest. She shook her head like a small girl resistant of the cough syrup her mother offered. "Sookie…" I pressed the cold glass harder against her lips and begged compliance through the bond.

"It'll be better if you do it quickly," Pam suggested. I met her gaze and nodded to her and allowed her a silent appreciation.

I held the glass for her until she had taken in all of the liquid. "Swallow."

She followed my instructions. I put a straw up to her mouth and felt her shudder through the bond before I saw her body do it physically.

"Don't worry—it's—"

"Sprite," Pam finished my sentence for me. Sookie took a sip, swished the fluid around and then rested her head on the crook of Pam's shoulder.

I heard a sharp rap against the back door and was reminded of Dr. Ludwig's presence of Pam.

"Pam and I are going to talk; do you think you can eat your Wendy's? We'll just be in the next room."

She nodded and Pam followed my silent instructions to sit her at the bar. I waited for Pam to join me, gathering my thoughts as my patience dwindled. I went to let the woman in and told her to peek around the corner at my bonded chewing through her burger.

"Do you have any idea how she came to this condition," she asked, not alarmed, but perturbed. I had a feeling she was leery of working on humans but was too well paid to say anything.

"She's spent a week in the fae realm and I gave her a quart or so of my blood—we're bonded."

"A week," she questioned me incredulously.

"Yes, is this significant? She's an eighth fae."

"Even if she were a fourth fae, a week would be hard on the human body. She would not realize the majority of it there but movement in time and space is difficult on such a fragile being. However, I doubt the seriousness of her problem is only physical."

I gave her a look that indicated that was none of her business and she sorted through a small bag hanging off her shoulder.

"Bathe her in this and extremely warm water. Then spread this ointment over every inch of her skin—I assume you're willing to do this."

I nodded and took the powder tablets and tube, "What does it do?"

"You should trust me, Northman. It should encase her soul and heal her aura."

With that, she saw herself out, knowing what I expected and seeming uncomfortable with the situation.

"She looks—" Pam froze not sure if she should continue but I permitted her to finish her statement.

"She looks—as if she's a zombie. I don't know if there's anything left in her."

"Yes, I'm having difficulties deciding what the best way to fix her emotionally is," I couldn't think of anything or anyone to relieve her of this dull ache of emotional anxiety that was taking over the erased physical pain flowing freely though the bond.

"Perhaps, I should tend to her tonight?" Pam looked at me expectantly.

"No, No—I will not leave her alone," I placed the razor onto my child's extended palm, "I assume you can handle something sweet, innocent, yet sexy? She needs to go in there as if nothing has gone wrong, as the Sookie Stackhouse everyone has talked about."

"Of course."

I came back into the kitchen to find the meal nearly gone, only some fries still dangling from her fingers. At least it seemed Sookie's physical needs were tended to. I was overwhelmed by the need to do something, as if there was something that was meant to happen in this moment that would not reveal itself. As if the puzzle piece was hidden underneath the puzzle so I couldn't fill in the last hole.

"Pam's going to take care of you," her alarm, the first actual form of emotion in the whole night reached me, and I comforted her, "I'll be here the whole time."

I lifted her onto the stool in the middle of the kitchen, and watched Pam take her place behind Sookie. I leaned against the sink on the edge but still within' Sookie's sightline. I heard the minute pings of the back of Sookie's hair being sliced, dully. I felt something perched in my consciousness as if I was holding the trigger on a gun. I walked towards my bonded, noticing the blond wisps wafting through the air towards the floor when I heard her shriek. Her body caved over grabbing her stomach as the tidal wave of sadness brought me to my knees below her. I tried to find her eyes but the tears were almost cloudy with the emotion that was funneled through me.

"Eric," Pam whispered.

"Eric," Pam said louder.

"Eric," Pam shouted.

I looked away from my bonded's heaving body and realized the wetness rolling down my own cheeks. My pinstripe shirt had been tinted pink around the collar. I had no idea how much time had passed.

"You have to hold her, comfort her; I cannot do this while she flails. Human women must have physical contact and be soothed."

I was too distracted by the raging feelings of humiliation, pain, sadness, helplessness to understand my child. So, she took my arm and used it to stroke Sookie's upper arm. Pam moved my hand up and down the smooth skin until my hand followed the pace on its own. She took my other hand and used my fingertips to wipe away the salty water on Sookie's face. Immediately, I could think clearer. I saw the effect in the stillness of Sookie's body but also through the bond. I wrapped my arms around my bonded's waist because I was too timid to move during these critical minutes. I continued touching her, squeezing her. I stood up and somehow wrapped myself around her but still avoided Pam's razor.

A feeling of desperate peace flailed in the distance. Her body against mine felt natural and for a moment I felt myself give in—rested my head against her breast and lowered myself again until my head was in her lap again and let my fingers tenderly graze her back. This poor human had just seemed to grasp her humanity. She wouldn't have anyone to take care of her, not her brother, a friend, a parent, and because of me she wouldn't ever have another lover.

A sudden stillness alerted me to an open mouthed Pam. I looked up to see my bonded's eyes closed, hands locked in the tendrils of my hair. I gave my child directions for the preparations tomorrow and dismissed her. I let my head rest between my lover's legs for a few moments longer before standing up delicately. I didn't wish to push her further into uneasiness, again.

I lifted her into my arms and noticed that her positioning at the moment felt like more of a parent holding his child rather than anything erotic. I walked through the living room and peeked into the ground floor bedroom. I made a conscious decision that she would stay with me tonight—if she needed comfort, contact, I would give that to her willingly. It was the least I could do for her; after all we had put her through. Since when did I put myself as the representative of our kind?

I took her up stairs, my hand cradling her neck on my shoulder. I went through the master bedroom to the master bath. I set her feet on the floor and she started shaking violently and her terror took over my emotions. I tried to ascertain the danger but couldn't sense anything. "What is it my, my love?"

She found my face and wrapper herself around me again, lifting her knees and crawling up my body, trying to find her previous position. With a drop of an r, for her, everything had suddenly changed. I wouldn't grant myself the peace of mind that our relationship had pivoted, but who was I to hold away the only thing this suffering girl needed? I lifted her upwards, placing her where she wanted to be and cradled her while I turned on the bath, loosening my arm to feel for the appropriate temperature.

I started to peel off the robe that was still clinging to her shoulders, watching her face for any sudden reactions. She stayed still and allowed me to continue with my work. I took the tablets from my pocket and dropped them into the bath, which turned black immediately. I questioned myself on whether I should get in considering whatever the concentration of the water but couldn't risk her torment filling my body again.

I wriggled my feet out of my boots and stepped on each set of toes to pull off the thick socks that clung to my ankles. I was careful to ease her naked body into the water, feeling the water climbing up my jeans as I stepped in with her.

Her skin was still yellow but the darkness of the bruising had lightened. We would do a careful exchange tomorrow evening. I took a moment to sense how much time we had until dawn. Three hours was my best, and accurate guess. The steam rose around her naked breasts and I could feel myself harden. She was still pressed hard against me, so I loosened her to allow the treated water to surround her abdomen, thoroughly cleansing whatever needed to be done. Before she could whimper from the separation, I covered her lips with mine. I prompted her lips open and she gave in eagerly pressing herself against me once again.

My fingers lifted cupfuls of water and drenched areas of her shoulders and arms while I distracted her with my tongue. There was something relaxing about taking care of someone, other than myself. I could feel my fangs aching for release and was conscious that that wasn't the only thing that wanted to be free. As if she could sense my reluctance, she tried to free a button, but her fingers were too weak to loosen them. Without separating my lips from hers I lifted my shirt to my chin and then took my arm out of its sleeve, letting my hand graze her erect, sensitive nipple. She gasped, leaving me several free seconds to release myself from my shirt. Out of the corner of my eye I could see our bare bodies hovering together in the mirror's gaze.

My fangs extended; I couldn't hold them back longer. I allowed my tongue to coat her throat and naked chest while my hands fumbled with my soaked belt, finally making it to my jean's button. I shoved my jeans to my ankles and pressed her body against me so I could lull my head backwards and enjoy the lack of pressure. I felt her tongue doing lazy swipes at my collarbone and realized how tired she was. So I went to work, giving her what she needed. I felt her swollen lips and gave her a delicate graze of pleasure.

I nuzzle my face against hers, and slip myself into her, cupping her bottom to lift delicately at a slow tempo. I let the water shrink and swell around us and notice the color has lightened, and her skin has adopted a flush pink tint. Her whimpers become moans when I finger her clip and suck on her nipple. Her fairy scent is intoxicating and I try to concentrate on her face, her breathing, pressing my pleasure into hers.

I suddenly realize that I cannot bite, not now, but can also sense that her climax is reluctant. I press harder on her clit, but only get a small moan, nothing close to rewarding. She separates our bodies by not more than centimeters and searches my face. Her eyes colliding with mine make me swell even larger and I know that I have nothing more than seconds left. So I give her what she needs, "I love you, Sookie."

Her breath chokes in her throat as tears cling to her eyelashes. I can feel her muscles tight around me as a small squeal escapes and every pressure from the week finally relinquishes out of our heaving bodies. I stay inside her while she catches her breath, and see the tub has faded to a faint violet. The calm that has settled over the two of us is interrupted when I notice her prickled flesh and lift her off of me but hold her slumbering body.

I don't bother with the drain, instead bringing her to the bed, slipping her under the sheets and try to press the quilt tight around her so I can have a few moments to arrange things. She doesn't move and I exhale, knowing that this would amuse her if she were awake. I find the tube and hold it under hot water in the sink, trying to warm it up, while I sort other things out. I find a set of clothes for both of us, tomorrow. I close the light tight shades, and set the code for the house and the bedroom. I write a note just in case she wakes before me, and finally retrieve the lotion and start to rub it across her feet. I keep the rest of her covered for warmth as I focus on each pore of her skin. I manage to turn her over without waking her, and give myself a pat on the back. I am satisfied with my blood and Dr. Ludwig's work. No one will suspect a thing.

A part of my brain nags me, demanding an explanation for my outburst. It wants to know why I am sleeping with a woman, consciously, for the first time in decades. I push it aside, demanding, for the first time in my lifetime, that the sun will come sooner.