The Hotel Carmilla, at this time of night, was alive (well, alive-ish) with activity. Luckily, the hallway was deserted as they stepped out of the elevator and started towards Eric's room.
"I was just thinking," Stan began, receiving peeved looks from the others before he could even finish, "Maybe the little rats ran off and joined the Fellowship themselves."
"Careful. Hugo is mine," Isabel warned.
"Sookie wouldn't have done such a thing," Persephone told him with strong certainty, "She can be trusted."
"Oh, you think that this human can be trusted. That's okay, then; she must be reliable," Stan replied, "And anyway, if you loved Hugo so much, Isabel, you'd have been inside that church ages ago."
"With no plan or exit strategy? That's why you'll never be sheriff, Stan," Isabel mused, "You don't think."
They paused in the middle of the dark corridor, the steadily brewing argument preparing to spill over. Stan stepped towards Isabel, waggling his finger in her face, but she stood firm, hands on hips.
"And that's why you've been getting Godric and Persy coffee for the past 40 years. You never take any fuckin' action. And you," he continued, turning to Eric who was looking more vexed by the second, " The Fellowship has your maker and your telepath and still you do nothin'.
It took a split-second for Eric to lose his cool and in a flash he had Stan pinned up against the wall, his hand to his throat with just enough pressure to hold him in place, but not enough to be strangling him, (despite his almost overpowering urge to do so).
"Are you questioning my loyalty, Stan?" he asked, his voice chillingly even.
"Just trying to return Godric to his rightful position," Stan tried but failed to convince him.
Behind them, Persephone had taken an unconscious, protective step forward, but allowed Eric to speak as he needed; it may have been the only way that Stan would learn his place, though it was unlikely. Isabel seemed torn between being amused by Stan's position and annoyed by his interference once again in their attempt to discuss their next move.
Eric was glaring at him with pure hatred; he would like nothing more than to force a stake up through this man's heart, but there was the inconvenience of him being a child of Persephone's. Surely she wouldn't let such a deed go unpunished.
"I think you may have another agenda," he said to Stan, his voice still composed, "Maybe you think that starting a war with the Fellowship will distract us from the truth...that you're so starved for power, you murdered Godric for his title...among other things."
With his finishing words, he looked to Persephone. Stan flicked his eyes towards her, but quickly brought them back to Eric.
"That is a lie. How dare you accuse me?"
"Eric, please don't make such assumptions," Persephone requested, a strange hint of sorrow touching the edges of her words.
"Besides, there is no evidence," Isabel said, as though she wouldn't put it passed Stan to be capable of carrying out what Eric was suggesting.
Persephone put a hand on Eric's shoulder, a silent appeal for him to let Stan down. He did so, but pulled away from her, moving off along the hallway by himself until he reached the door to his room.
"There may not be any yet, but if I discover anything to suggest that this is the truth, there will be no mercy. In the meantime, you can all stand around and do nothing but argue, or you can go running into that church and kill them all; I no longer care."
His voice became low and rough, as it usually did when he was upset.
"If Godric is gone, nothing can bring back what I have lost."
He disappeared into his room, leaving the three Dallas vampires glancing at each other uncomfortably.
"What a fuckin' pansy-ass," Stan commented, breaking the heavy silence. This time, Persephone chose not to scold him. She had seen the tears running down Eric's cheeks and she had had enough. Of everything.
A light humming sound woke her the following night, as the light-tight metal shutters drew up from the windows around the house. Despite there being no windows in her bedroom, the noise travelled through the deathly quiet house, which waited for the first movements of its inhabitants.
She sat up and looked at Stan, who lay beside her, still asleep. Nothing had occurred between them the night before. He was very much like a loyal dog with its master; at the end of the night he just wanted a spot on the bed. A new sound caught her attention, as her phone began vibrating on the nightstand beside the bed with an incoming message.
ERIC: FotS. Now.
Glancing back at Stan, she found that he was now awake and staring at her expectantly, hands behind his head.
"Do not follow me," she ordered. Then she flew through the door, out into the night.
"Godric?"
Sookie stared up at the young man whom she had just watched lift and snap the neck of a man who easily outweighed him by a hundred pounds or more, and, though shaken, she still had so many questions.
What the hell was the Fellowship of the Sun up to? Who from the Dallas crew had betrayed them? Was the young man standing before her the same man they had been searching for this whole time? And, most importantly, where the hell was Bill?
She and Hugo had entered the Fellowship without any problems, greeted pleasantly by Sarah Newlin and given a tour of the main buildings with Steve Newlin himself. It was when a large, brutish looking man named Gabe had joined the tour that things started to turn ugly. She and Hugo had been forced down into the basement and were locked up like animals in a steel cage. Gabe had later decided to pay them a visit, and seconds from raping Sookie, had found himself at the mercy of a 2000 year-old teenager.
"You should not have come," the boy now told her with a solemn expression. They simultaneously turned their heads in the direction of the staircase that led up to the ground floor, as screams echoed down towards them.
"Bill?" Sookie cried out.
"No," Godric told her. He turned his head ever so slightly, as though trying to pick up some sort of minute sound. Recognition crossed his face and he seemed glad. "I am here, my love. Down here."
Sookie was surprised to see Persephone glide down the stairs towards them, but she paused, allowing Eric to go forward first. He acted with a reverence that Sookie would never have thought possible from him.
"Godric," he said, kneeling down, his voice thick with emotion.
"You were a fool for sending humans after me," Godric chided, but Sookie saw that as he looked down at Eric, he too felt utter devotion.
"I had no other choice," Eric explained, "These savages...they seek to destroy you."
"I am aware of what they've planned."
Sookie caught Persephone shift her gaze, as though a suspicion of hers had been confirmed by this simple statement. It made her wonder just what the Fellowship had had planned for him.
Eric lifted his head and frowned before getting to his feet and stepping back. Persephone came forward, but found it difficult to return the adoring look being given to her by Godric. Sensing her uncertainty, he took her hands in his. The action renewed her hope and she finally gave him the smile he would have fought to have seen one last time.
"This one betrayed you," he explained, nodding towards Hugo, who lay unconscious on the floor nearby.
Persephone felt a pang of sympathy for Isabel, who would no doubt be losing her companion before the night was over.
"He's with the Fellowship," Sookie told her and Eric, "He set a trap for us."
A blue light began flashing on the wall as an alarm sounded throughout the complex; knowledge of the invasion and possible pending attack was quickly flooding through the congregation and its leaders.
"Save the human," Godric ordered Eric. He looked to Sookie, who was glancing around the room at the flickering blue illuminate, "Go with him."
She gave a nod and started towards the staircase. Eric remained where he was.
"I'm not leaving your side until-"
"I can take care of myself," Godric assured him, "Spill no blood on the way out. Go!"
Eric's body seemed to move on its own accord, as his mind certainly didn't want to obey the words of the ancient vampire. He followed Sookie out of the room.
Godric looked back to Persephone and gave her hands a gentle squeeze. She was close to tears, but would not allow herself to give in.
"I don't...understand," she said.
"But you do. I know you do," he replied.
She leant forward and rested her head against his neck, a gentle but familiar reminder of the first night she had ever met him.
"I wish I didn't."
"Brothers and sisters, we are in lockdown. Women with children please take them to our classroom buildings. Men and able-bodied women, security personnel will provide you with stakes and silver just outside the chapel. Our Soldiers of the Sun are on their way to protect our church, but safely evacuate the building now. Brothers and sisters, the hour is upon us!"
Steve Newlin's calm voice reported over the PA system, brimming with the persuasive overconfidence he so often utilized as a reverend. Scurrying footsteps and cries of confusion sounded from the parishioners as they followed the orders of their leader.
"Let's move," Persephone said to Godric, raising her head.
"It would be better if I were to stay."
"Better for whom?" she asked, seeing no positive advantages for anyone but the Fellowship.
Godric didn't reply, but let go of her hands and planted a gentle kiss on her lips; an unmistakable kiss of good-bye.
"Why are you doing this?" Persephone asked, her eyes shut, "Why now?"
"I'm done," he replied, not bitterly, but with an acceptance that was almost too much for her to bear.