A/N: Is anyone up for a little make-up lemon? Here's the next chapter and Sookie and Eric will clear the air. I'm sorry if I was misleading in my last author's note. There won't be any chapters that are EPOV, the whole story is told by Sookie, I just meant that they would talk this chapter and he'd get the chance to explain himself. Sorry! ::ducks to avoid any rotten fruit::
So as always thank you everyone who's been reading, alerting, favoriting and especially reviewing! Y'all are wonderful! And thank you to my wonderful beta, Sheknitsnicely, this was all done on her vaca, cause she's the best!
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Currently Alan Ball does, however things are not looking good after other characters Mr. Ball owns such as Pam Beaufort, Jesus Luz, Baby Mikey, and Godric came forward and volunteered to testify for the prosecution in this case, freely offering their own terrible stories of abuse and mistreatment at Mr. Ball's hands!
When I come awake next, it's very late in the day, just after four in the afternoon. I'm not surprised by this since, I've been kidnapped, bitten by one thing or another and forced to fight for my life, and the lives of those I love, often enough at this point to know that it's more exhausting to the body than a typical day at the office.
What I am surprised by, given how last night ended, is the fact that Eric, awake early now that winter is pretty much official, is still here with me. He sits on the other end of his enormous bed, his back to me, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands and, perhaps most gut wrenching of all, a bottle of half-finished True Blood sitting forgotten on the night table.
I don't know what to say to him. His mood right now is parts pensive and accepting, but there's a low simmering anger just beneath it and I have no idea if that anger is for me. I have no idea if he blames me, if he hates me. I'm hopeful that, given that he brought me down here last night and chose to stay, even though he knew I'd probably wake up at some point, he doesn't wish never to see me again. But I'm just…adrift.
Knowing that nothing will come of simply sitting here and fretting myself into a heart condition, I sit up, pulling the sheet securely around me, even though I'm still wearing my shirt and underwear from last night, and call Eric's name softly. Eric doesn't bother to turn around, but I do get an acknowledgement.
"Are you feeling better?" He asks me. His tone isn't as quiet as last night, but I can hear that he's annunciating every word much more slowly and carefully than usual, trying to make them come out normal sounding, despite what must be the uncomfortable and unwanted newness of being without his fangs.
"I am." I answer quietly, not knowing what I should do and, not having planned anything out, I just start to ramble from there. "Eric…I'm so sorry about…everything! I didn't…." Whatever I would have said, Eric cuts off by lifting his hand in a 'stop' gesture. It shuts me up immediately, but does nothing to make me feel any better, especially since he hasn't turned, even for a second, to look at me.
"Sookie, there isn't anything for you to apologize for." He says with a great deal of conviction. I'm about to interrupt but he plows right on. "It's not your fault that, in trying to keep you away from Ilina, I managed to expose you to Russell. I had hoped that he wanted me, but I should have known better. In wanting to keep you away from her, I gave him the in he was looking for.
Nor is it your fault that you entered the battle last night. We are bonded, not just by our blood but by the love we have for each other. Such emotions make decisions based on nothing but logic impossible. I could not, and would not, have been able to simply sit by and watch, any more than you did, if our situations had been reversed. You did what you felt was necessary. You are no more a wilting, helpless flower than I am a coward. I cannot blame you for doing what is in your nature.
I am not happy that you let the Were bitch into the house last night, but there is no guaranteeing that things would have gone much differently if you hadn't. And if there is blame there, then you share it equally with Pam and Alcide. Pam and I will have a talk about that when this is finished, and the dog had better hope we never cross paths again. I let Bill give him blood last night because we needed every willing fighter, but if I should ever see him again I will rip him limb from limb for exposing you to such danger so idiotically! He owes me a debt in blood and I will have it. As for the rest, it's not your fault we can't seem to catch a break." Eric's words feel as though they lift a weight off of my shoulders that's been pressing down harder and harder since last night, but it's not completely gone from me yet.
"If you don't blame me, if you're not angry with me, then why did you leave me alone and why won't you look at me now?" I ask him, my voice breaking a little at the end, even as my body feels compelled to edge closer to him, wanting to give him comfort as much as I need to receive it. Eric's first response is a shake of his head as his shoulders seem to hunch over even more.
"I'm sorry I left you last night. I was not angry at you then either…I simply…I needed to think. I am angry with myself for allowing Ilina to maneuver me the way she has and I am… overwhelmed by the enormity of the thing she's gotten us to agree to, but the truth is our lives were forfeit from the moment the Authority signed those warrants. Perhaps, in reality, this is a blessing. I would rather die fighting than submit on my knees and I would never have submitted knowing they would take you. I was not angry with you, Sookie," Eric says again, "but I felt I was near being overcome, I needed to be alone to regain some calm and to think." I nod my head in understanding, even though Eric still isn't looking at me.
We handle things very differently he and I. The Stackhouses are a loud, in your face bunch that prefer to scream and yell or be screamed and yelled at when we have problems, just so long as people are talking. Eric is a loner, through and through: someone who finds solutions to his problems by contemplating them deeply, in silent privacy.
I remember finding him that way just before we squared off against Russell the first time, before our first kiss, alone in his office meditating over his desk lamp. It seems that we aren't going to be given a chance to learn each other in peace and solitude like most couples. There isn't going to be any honeymoon period for us; instead, we'll have to learn when to hold on to each other tight and when to let out the rope a little as we go skipping from frying pan to fire and back again.
"Then why won't you look at me?" I finally ask him, when, even after absolving me of my fears and sending me precious waves of comfort, he still won't let me see any of him but his back. Eric shakes his head and is silent for a long moment. When he does speak though, his voice is so low that if I hadn't had some of his blood just last night I probably wouldn't have been able to hear it.
"I don't want you to see me this way." He whispers, his voice no less filled with anguish for its lack of volume. I know he can't see my eyebrow rise into my hair, but he must sense the question despite that, because he begins to sputter out an explanation. "I…I don't know how to make you understand except to say…. I feel…. I am incomplete!" He finally manages to tell me, though it still doesn't quite make sense to me. "A Vampire without his fangs is like a lion without his claws and losing them is a punishment reserved for the most disgusting crimes. Even then, it's usually accompanied by starvation and isolation. But I must be seen with these…holes by everyone! Fucking bitch blackmailed me into giving her my help and then she…she HUMILIATED me in front of all of them, in front of Pam, in front of YOU!
I cannot bear for you to look at me like this! I feel half a man. I cannot fight like a Vampire. I cannot bite or feed. I cannot even please you properly!" He spits out the last as I'm overcome by a wave of the deep shame he feels and I understand.
It would be no different than losing a limb or one of my senses, if I was blinded or couldn't hear, if I lost my legs. Something integral about who he perceives himself to be has been ripped away from him and he feels lost. For Eric, who is prouder and vainer than most, the fact that his injury is so visible has to make it even worse. It's the mind fuck cherry on top of Ilina's blackmail cake. Understanding and agreeing, though, are two different things, especially about the last part.
Eric might be missing something that he feels is a part of him, but that doesn't mean that he's less of a man or a Vampire or that he's useless. I've never seen a man fight, both with a sword and with his brain, the way Eric does and, given that he spent a week under amnesia, when I allowed him to touch but not bite, I know that no matter how good his fangs feel in my skin, he doesn't need them to obliterate the thought of every other man on the planet from my head and I intend to remind him of that right now!
Throwing off the covers, I walk around the bed and come to stand between his knees. Eric moves as if to turn away from me, but when I put my hand on his shoulder he stops. I can feel in our bond his near pleading for me to just leave him be right now, but I also know that he would never use his physical strength as a weapon against me. It's something I take advantage of now as I kneel in front of him and gently reach up, pulling his hands away from his face. There are tears streaking his cheeks and a look of pure mortification as he sees that I see them.
It's not the first time that I've seen Eric cry, but it is the first time that I've seen him cry in self -pity and I think that, more than anything, is what makes him feel ashamed right now. Not just that this thing has been done to him, but that he can't hide how it's affecting him: that he's weak and vulnerable in an entirely new and unpleasant way in front of me.
I wonder how many people have ever given Eric comfort? I wonder if Godric is the only other one? I wonder a lot of things, but I let them pass out of my head just as quickly as they come. The important thing right now is for me to show my beautiful, vain, strong, stubborn, fierce and unwillingly vulnerable Vampire that, between us, there need never be any walls, real or imagined.
I will understand and I will try to accept the fact that, when Eric is confused or adrift, he will need time to himself. I will give him that space when he needs it, but I will never let him turn away from me out of shame or a perception that I will think differently of him for feeling or even being weak again. We belong to each other, in good and bad.
"Eric, look at me." I command him softly, letting him feel through our bond that I will not let him out of this. He's reticent at first, but eventually his eyes lift to meet mine. "I love you. What happened last night does not change that. If anything, I love you more. I love you for understanding why I did the things I did. I love you for choosing to fight for us, no matter how risky the battle, and I love you more than I can ever express for the sacrifice you made last night for us…for me!" I say the last as I reach out tentatively and brush my thumb, softly, over his upper lip. "Nothing you ever do will make me stop loving you. But what you did last night…I have never loved you or wanted you more than I do right now!
The look in Eric's eyes is confused and unsure, but little by little, as my words sink in, I feel the change within him. We almost died last night (again) and we fought and won a victory, no matter how much it was tainted by what happened afterward. These things are heady aphrodisiacs for my Vampire, for any Vampire, and as he feels the truth of my love for him, my acceptance of him as he is, I feel my Eric start to come back to me. I feel the man I love realize that the woman he loves is before him: needing him, loving him and desiring him. And the man I love has never been one to leave his woman wanting.
Not waiting for him to make the first move, I stand up fully, still between his legs, and slowly reach for the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my torso inch by inch and then whipping it off my head in a smooth motion. Eric's eyes, that wanted to avoid me so avidly a few minutes ago, are glued to me now as I reach back behind me, throwing the stained shirt in a corner and letting my fingers wrap around the clasp to my bra. When it too joins my shirt, I stand there for a single second, letting Eric's eyes roam over me and sending him wave after wave of lustful adoration before hooking my thumbs into my underwear and pulling it down, letting the little piece of lace fall on its own when it reaches my knees. Bending to his ear, letting my bare breasts brush his cheek, I whisper softly, my breath a tiny, hot puff against the side of his face.
"Please, Eric, don't turn me away!" The words are barely out of my mouth when I feel Eric's hands come up and capture my waist. Lifting me effortlessly, he lays me back on the bed. It's so big that, even width wise, it's still bigger than I am. Turning and kneeling between my own spread legs this time, Eric takes a moment to just look at me, his eyes going molten hot and the feelings he's sending me through our bond stripped down to the most elemental: love, desire and need.
"What have I ever done to deserve you?" He asks, and his question catches me off guard for one moment, maybe making me realize how much what happened last night could have damaged him, might still damage him, if I don't show him that nothing has changed in my eyes, that he hasn't changed in my eyes. The Eric I know, both of them if you want to get technical about it, is many things, both good and bad, but confident in his God given right to have me for his own is one of his most prominent and binding characteristics. When he's himself, when he was cursed, he never doubted for even a moment that I should belong to him. I look up at him now and pin him with the most sincere, heated and honest gaze I have ever given anyone, and I tell him the truth.
"You're you. That alone is more than enough!" Eric smiles, a closed lipped smile, but a smile nonetheless and then he does something I would never have expected. He picks up my foot, the one that was injured last night, and begins to pet it, inspecting the healed bite mark for a moment before lifting it to his mouth and letting his tongue dart out to slowly clean away the dried blood that's still there.
It feels amazing, his cool tongue on my hot skin, and it makes me shiver deliciously while letting out a wanton moan. I want him… I want him so badly. The terror of last night, the pain, the rejection I though he was giving me, it all coalesces into one giant knot at the pit of my stomach that only the physical proof of his love can undo and, as he licks and sucks his way up my leg, his human teeth nipping me almost playfully, I feel myself growing wet, my body starting to writhe on the bed, wanting his tongue and teeth and lips on another, more sensitive, part of my body.
When Eric's face finally meets my slit, I'm dripping for him, staining his lovely statin bed sheets with my longing and begging nearly incoherently. He looks at me once, his eyes going soft with his love, and then he parts me with his fingers and lets his tongue dart out to taste me.
When his tongue meets my overheated sex, my hips buck up off the bed, desperate to get as much contact as possible. Taking the opportunity, Eric threads his arms through my bent knees and cups both globes of my bottom, taking them firmly in hand, squeezing and kneading them, using them to lift my pussy closer to his face as he alternates between sucking on my already over sensitive clit and driving his tongue deeply in and out of my entrance.
Without my knowledge, my hips begin to thrust continuously, pushing myself against Eric's willing face again and again as he drives me closer and closer to climax. The peak is just nearing when I feel him bring one hand closer and closer to the center of my bottom, letting his fingers splay me wide and starting to play between my cheeks, gently massaging my other entrance. For all the amazing sex we've had, Eric has never ventured there before and I know that he's doing it now because he wants to prove to me, to himself, that he can pleasure me like no one else even without biting me.
Knowing that he only wants me to feel good and not quite believing how amazing it actually does feel, I let myself fall into the sensation without fear and the overwhelming nature of the of it, coupled with the knowledge of how very forbidden what he's doing to cause it is, takes me that last little step off the precipice.
I come screaming Eric's name and clinging to any part of him that my blind, flailing hands can find as he crawls up my body and envelopes me in his arms, holding me close as I come down. When I can see and think again, I find him smiling down on me. I smile back for just a moment before grabbing the back of his head and taking his mouth in a ferocious kiss. At first Eric seems more than happy to let his tongue plunge into my mouth and explore every inch of the territory he knows so well, but when I try to do the same to him he hesitates.
I open my eyes to find his on me, but don't break our kiss as I all but force his mouth open and begin to caress every part of it. When my tongue swipes over the gaping holes where his fangs used to be I feel him shudder.
"Does it hurt?" I ask him softly, still not pulling away. Eric shakes his head, and I feel his hands come up and cup my face.
"No." Is all he says before our tongues resume dueling. Just the pressure of his lips on mine and the taste of myself on them is enough to bring me back to a fever pitch and I let my hand run down Eric's chest and the defined muscles of his stomach until it meets his cock, long, thick and hard. I wrap my fingers around his base and begin to stroke, feeling him thrust into my hand.
I love the feel of him almost as much as I love the taste, but before I can let that thought take its natural course, I feel Eric lean away from me. Shocked, I want to protest until I see him reach into one of the nightstand drawers and return with a little dagger.
Climbing back between my legs, Eric takes it out of his tiny holder and slices the side of his neck. I watch as his thick, red blood starts to ooze out of the wound and run sluggishly down his throat.
Eric makes to put the dagger aside, but before he does I put my hand over his and bring it to my own neck. Eric's eyes go wide as I use both of our hands to slice a long, shallow cut just where my neck meets my shoulder, and I can feel his shock as my blood starts to run out, thinner and faster than his. The cut hurts but, now more than ever, I feel the need to renew our bond, to make it strong and to show him that nothing will ever make me turn away from him, that no pain, small or great, is too much to endure if it means that we're together.
Eric gives me one last, adoring gaze and then we both let our lips fall to each other's skin, our mouths latching, our arms encircling one another tightly and Eric's body pushing into mine, so that we're one in every possible way.
As we drink from each other, the bond opens up wide and I feel us merging together once again, sharing our bodies and our pleasures. I feel that place in him that's wounded and uncertain and I fill it with my love, with my strength, with my fierce trust in him and in return I feel a tidal wave of devotion and love washing over me
As we share the most vulnerable parts of ourselves, Eric thrusts into me over and over again, each movement long, slow and hard, until finally I release his neck to breathe and find myself crying out once more, begging him to go faster, to reach deeper, to take me harder.
As his pace picks up, I feel him licking my neck, sealing the wound and, when it's closed, he takes one hand and cups my cheek, bringing our faces together, just centimeters apart, so that we can watch one another as we fall over the edge.
"Love you, love you so much!" I cry out as my orgasm hits me hard and I feel Eric lower his head so that our foreheads touch and he nods as he's taken with me.
"Never leave me, Sookie! I can't think without you. I can't live without you!" Eric pumps erratically a few more times and I encircle him as tightly as possible with my arms and legs as the aftershocks rock through our bodies and then he rolls us so that we're both on our sides.
The moment sends a thrill of déjà vu through me as I take in the white satin sheets and the way we're curved around each other, but suddenly only touching where he grasps my hand in his, kissing it again and again as he looks at me with languid, loving eyes. His words though are different.
"I'm sorry I did not comfort you last night. It was selfish of me to think only of myself." He says, gently. I give him a half smile and nod my head, thankful for him saying it even if I need to tell him it's unnecessary.
"You don't need to apologize either, Eric. You don't always need to take care of me. But next time I'd love it if you'd let me take care of you, or at the very least don't just go running off, okay? Tell me you need space and it's yours." Eric nods his head, pulling himself closer and throwing an arm over me, so that his hand can stroke my back.
"I promise, lover." He says, laying gentle kisses on my face. After just a few though, he pulls back and pins me with a serious expression.
"Compton." He says Bill's name like it's a curse, but he looks at me carefully as he does. "Are you alright? Are you…sad?" I look at Eric and I realize that I haven't even thought of what happened to Bill last night since it happened. I really, really look deep down inside of myself before answering Eric and, to be honest, I'm not sure I like what I find, but the truth is the truth.
"No, I'm not. I feel like I should be sad, but the truth is Bill killed any remaining good feelings I had for him when he helped Antonia use me to light you on fire. I wasn't wishing him dead or anything, but well…if it was between Ilina staking you or staking Bill…." I let the sentence trail off, still not ready to admit out loud that I'd throw pretty much anyone under a bus if it meant saving Eric. He just nods in understanding, probably knowing everything even without my words, since he can feel what I feel. "Eric, why do you think Ilina spared you and not Bill?" It's something that's been gnawing at the back of my brain since last night.
It's true that Eric is a much more formidable warrior than Bill could have ever hoped to have been, but with almost no Vampires left in Louisiana it's not like Eric commands an army that he can pledge to Ilina's cause or anything like that. It just seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for one fighter. Eric grimaces. It appears the same question has been on his mind in the last hours too.
"She said that my reputation would bring validity to this fight, but I think it's more than that. I think she wants my connections more than she wants my reputation." He answers. I lift up onto my elbow and give Eric a questioning look.
"Your connections," I ask, "to whom?" Eric lets out a deep, unnecessary sigh and looks me straight in the eye.
"To two people who wouldn't talk to her otherwise, but that I might be able to persuade to join this fight."