The Hardest Part
Chapter Twelve
Sookie's POV
I heaved myself up from the couch - a surprisingly tough task - and switched on one of my old lamps. Light flooded the room as I sank back down, taking the weight off my feet. The combination of medicine I had to take and the lack of freedom my injuries gave me was making my body increasingly weaker. I hated being stuck at home, especially on dark rainy nights like that particular one at the time, and the sound of the wind whipping the trees was making me a little uneasy.
To give myself peace of mind, I really wanted to check that everything was locked, but I just didn't have the energy.
Instead, I kept my eyes trained on the TV and tried to ignore the images in my head of a face suddenly popping up at the window.
I'd definitely been watching way too many horror films.
Shivering slightly, I pulled my blanket around myself and right up to my neck. I rested my chin on my knees and stared ahead, but I could slowly feel my eyelids getting heavier...
My thoughts moved sluggishly. I began to drift away into a dream...
Then a very loud knock on the door gave my the fright of my life.
I jumped so hard that I somehow managed to jerk my neck. Cursing, I struggled upwards and headed to the entrance, wondering who the hell would visit so late on a Thursday evening. Shooting pains fired up and down my arm as I stroppily swung open the door.
It was Eric.
I didn't know whether to feel surprised or not. A few nights ago, he'd promised to visit 'tomorrow' and that had never happened, so I just gave him a questioning look.
He took the hint.
"I apologise for not seeing you as I promised. There was..." He trailed off suddenly. "Can I come inside? It's a little wet out here." He'd obviously forgotten an umbrella and hadn't even bothered with a coat (goodness knows why) so his shirt was practically saturated with water and clung to his chest.
It was a pleasant sight. I wasn't going to complain.
As well as that, his normally perfect hair was limp and dripping water into his eyes, so I nodded and stepped aside. A pool of water formed on the floor and I ground my teeth together to stop a comment from coming out.
"Thank you," he murmured. "As I was saying, there was a big problem with the bar and I just didn't have the time to come here. I'm really sorry if you were expecting me."
"It's no problem," I lied. What he didn't know was that I'd had a nice night-in planned. I'd found some bottles of wine and even a couple of old movies. After confiding in him at the hospital, I'd hoped we were gradually getting closer.
But it was fine. Totally fine.
"I'll get you a towel," I added, making my way upstairs. The sudden shock of him appearing had given my body some temporary ability to move properly, but I knew by the end of the night that I'd be exhausted.
But hey, positive thinking.
He gratefully accepted my offering and began roughly drying his hair, as though he'd just stepped out of the shower.
Stop with the mental imagery... this is not good for your health.
Once he'd finished trying to dry the rest of himself, I noticed that his shirt was still soaking, despite his efforts.
You could get him to remove it...
"Uh, do you want me to see if I've got any old clothes lying around?" I said in a rush. It was so embarrassing that I was getting flustered. "I've got some baggy tops that might fit you."
The thought of him in one of my pieces of clothing was enough to make me want to giggle, but I held back, otherwise I might have sounded like a maniac.
He smirked adorably. "Alright. Show me what you've got."
So I did. There were a couple of shirts I'd bought after going to some gigs and Eric settled for one of those. "Heavy metal fan, then?" he asked, slowly taking off his old top. There was a weird splat as it dropped to the floor, but that didn't matter.
Eric was topless in front of me.
I cleared my throat and tried to look normal. No big deal, this is fine. Perfectly normal. Just... keep looking at his face. His face, Sookie. "Uh... yeah. Yeah."
My pathetic stalling response made him grin. Damn, why was he doing this to me? "Good taste." It took some effort, but he managed to get my old shirt on and it fitted him nicely. When I say nicely, I mean that it was tight in all the right places.
I sound like a pervert.
"Let's sit down somewhere," I eventually muttered. I nearly groaned when I was back down in my seat; it had taken so much effort not to collapse onto the floor in a pile of goo when he'd-
"So, how've you been?" he asked, returning to normal, sane conversation. He looked at me intently and full of concern, and everything turned serious again. I felt stupid for being so immature earlier.
"Okay, I guess. The days are kind of blurring into one, though." That was a completely honest answer; the only way I knew the day was because I'd taken a quick glance at my calendar. It was a little worrying.
"Are the painkillers working?"
"Oh, yes," I said, somehow sounding like a full-on drug addict who was high. The conversation really wasn't going too well, although Eric seemed oblivious.
"Good. And how are you, uh, emotionally? It took a lot to tell me what you did."
I swallowed loudly. I hadn't thought too much about that. Or rather I'd tried to block it out. It was a foreign feeling knowing that somebody else had an idea of what had happened before with my brother. "I'm... not sure."
He just looked at me silently for a moment, but I quickly moved on. "How's the bar now? You mentioned there was a big problem?"
He sighed. "It's all fixed now, nothing to worry about. But it was practically dead tonight because of the weather, so I took the opportunity to visit you. It's not too bad, quieter than usual."
"Yeah, it's been horrible. The weather, I mean. There'll probably be a storm in the middle of the night. That's something to look forward to."
Just as those words left my mouth, darkness suddenly swept over the room and I gasped in panic. Trying to adjust to the lack of light, I carefully made my way to the wall and tried the switch. It didn't work.
"Must be a power cut," I said, feeling my heart return somewhere near to its normal beat. For some stupid reason, I thought it had been something to do with the-
"What?" Eric suddenly replied, sounding completely unlike his usual calm self. His voice wavered. "What did you say?"
"There's been a power cut, Eric." I tried to feel for him in the darkness but he wasn't in his seat. "Eric, where are you?"
"Please, Sookie, have you got any candles?"
It was really unnerving to hear how panicked he sounded. "Sure, I'll try to find them... give me a minute..."
"Please be quick," he murmured.
I stretched out my hand, trying to remember the layout to the room. It was difficult with my jumbled thoughts, but I eventually managed to find the drawer with what I needed. It took a lot of effort, considering I only had one working hand, and sorting out the matches took several frustrating attempts.
It didn't help that I could hear Eric's unsteady breathing all the time.
Eventually I managed to strike a match alight and set to work with the candles. I spread them around the room and they provided a tiny amount of light. I joined Eric's side to place one by him and the sight of his face took me completely aback.
He was drenched in sweat and his eyes kept darting around erratically.
He looked terrified.
"It's okay, Eric," I whispered, trying to sound soothing. I knelt down on the floor where he was and placed an arm around him. I could feel him shuddering. "It's okay, there's light now, look."
He glanced up at me with uncertainty, but suddenly sighed. "I can see you."
"Yes. And I can see you."
"Why the fuck did that have to happen?" he grunted, suddenly looking angry.
"We can't stop power cuts every now and then, Eric. It was bound to happen with this weather."
Instead of replying, he remained silent. In the quiet, I began tentatively piecing everything together. It was so strange seeing my usually strong and cocky boss looking so vulnerable and so afraid. I'd almost thought he was pretending.
I'd seen hints of that side to him when the story about Sam had come out, but it was nothing compared to this.
I longed to understand, but didn't know how to.
"You're probably thinking I'm a right freak now," he suddenly hissed, shifting away from me a little. In the candlelight I saw a look of disgust on his face.
"You have no idea what I'm thinking," I said gently. "But it's definitely not that."
He closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knees, a parallel to my earlier actions. "I don't cope well with darkness," he muttered into his jeans. It was difficult to decipher what he was saying, but I eventually managed.
I looked at him, trying to say something comforting. "I... I never would have guessed."
"I own a nightclub so that I can be surrounded by people for most of the night. I don't want to be alone when it's like this. I'm pathetic. I'm so damn pathetic."
"You're not. You're so not."
"But I am!" he protested, his voice loud and insistent. "I can't get over something that happened years ago and now I'm forced to relive it every time it's fucking dark! I rely on light all the fucking time and it's not something I can even fucking control!"
I edged closer towards him, somehow feeling his anger rippling in the air. "Eric, I can help. I can be your light. I've been through shit too, you know it, and I can help." The role reversal was so striking that I sat in silence for a few seconds. "Like we've said before, we can help each other."
He looked up at me and I saw the light from the flame flickering in his blue eyes. It seemed to make them even more alive and brilliant, and I began to fully see the extent of what they were hiding.
We were so alike that it was frightening. We both pretended and hid, sheltering our vulnerable sides from the harsh outside world. We really understood each other.
"I've never talked about this to anyone before." His voice was deep and croaked as it echoed around the room.
"I've told you things that I wouldn't tell anybody, too," I admitted.
"What does that mean for us?" The question lingered in the air.
"It means we..." I trailed off, mainly because there weren't the right words. "How have you coped so long? With your fear? Like I said, I really never would have guessed."
"We're both good at pretending."
"That's not an answer, Eric. I can't help you if you don't share."
"It just feels odd speaking about it."
"It won't once it's done," I said sincerely, knowing from experience. "But the hardest part is telling somebody else, confiding in them. Getting the courage to do that is the tough bit, but you can trust me."
"I know. I do."
He remained quiet for a long time after that, clearly lost in his own thoughts. I never thought I'd be put in this kind of situation with him when I'd first stumbled into Northman's.
But I wouldn't have had it any other way.
"I, uh, usually keep lights on everywhere," he began abruptly, straightening up a little. "And I rarely sleep. That's why I probably look so tired all the fucking time. Uh, there are a few dark roads and places that I've grown to cope with, but the power cut tonight took me completely by surprise. It was overwhelming, lame as that sounds."
"Eric, you need to stop worrying about sounding lame or pathetic or whatever other words you call it. I'm not judging you and I never will. It's a fear, it's anything but pitiful, and there are others out there who are just the same." I paused, watching him run his fingers through his hair. "But... something must have triggered it...?"
He inhaled sharply. "Yeah."
I nodded, waiting patiently.
"I know that I can trust you," he added eventually, almost repeating himself. Those simple words meant a lot and I smiled at him, still surprised by the dynamic between us. I never thought I'd find someone like him, somebody who I could trust and really feel a connection with.
I gripped his hand, rubbing his skin with my thumb. "You can."
"It seems we have a thing for big revelations," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
I smiled briefly. "Indeed we do."
"Talk about déjà vu..."
"Eric, if you don't want to talk about it, we can just stop."
"No. No." He met my eyes. "It feels right."
"Okay. Take your time."
He inhaled deeply. "It started when I was nine years old."
