A/N: I know, can you believe it!? Finally… An update. Just like Eric with Sookie, I wouldn't anbandon you guys. I want to thank everyone who sent me PMs in the last month and a half, encouraging me to continue with the story. There were a few times I thought about giving it up. But I I hated the idea of leaving the story hanging. Plus, now that I'm out of my relationship, I want to see these two get better and be happy together. It's the least they can do.

In the interim, a mini-celebration: The good folks over at Bill's Wiki'd Women held a vampwich fan fic contest, Make Love Not War. I entered a story and I'm excited to say that it won! I have a very nice vampire-themed canvas bag to show for it. I'll post the story here eventually, as a kind of epilogue to Healing Blood, but if you're dying to read it now, the address is (and please forgive me if I don't figure this out right):

Billswikidwomen (dot) wetpaint (dot) com (slash) page (slash) The+Good-Bye+Kiss

Enjoy.

In the meantime, this is an extra-meaty update, almost 30 pages in Word—longer than any previous chapter I've done. A huge shout out to my new beta m-o-x-i-e-m-o! You have her to thank for the twist of lemon in the middle of the chapter. You're welcome, Sookieverse.

Now, a WARNING on this very long author's note: This chapter contains mention of SIDS. I know a lot of readers on here are young parents and I don't know how many of you have experienced this, but I figured it would be a sensitive topic, and I wanted to give you a head's up. Now, I hope you enjoy. –Bella

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Last time on Healing Blood:

She sighed and sounded almost happy, but she did not open her eyes.

"Bless... Eric," she half-slurred, and I wasn't entirely sure she wasn't still dreaming. Her hand at my waistband flopped against me helplessly and made me smile. Was she attempting to comfort me? This fragile human woman? In her sleep?

I leaned and brushed my lips against her golden hair. "For what, dear one?"

"You... me," she mumbled and burrowed my face into me further. I could not make out the word in the middle, even with my excellent hearing. "Thank y..."

I looked at her surprised. She was not angry at me now after her explosion earlier? I raised an eyebrow. Life with her would never be dull.

She stilled for a second, the only sound her heavy breathing. Then she gave my torso a feeble squeeze. Yes, not entirely sure she wasn't dreaming.

"Baby," she breathed, her breath playing against my torso. "Love you."

***

Chapter 21: The Promise

Sookie's POV

I didn't bother opening my eyes. The shooting pain up my back told me everything I needed to know.

It was like my body had locked itself up overnight and wasn't about to uncoil anytime soon. I took a slow breath in and just as I started to feel my lungs fill, the pain stabbed up from my hip to my neck. I coughed out the breath. I curled my shoulders further into myself and hugged the mattress for all I was worth.

I could barely hear the birds outside and didn't know what they were so chipper about. I was so irritable from lack of sleep and the pain that I liked to have spit. I felt for Bonnie today. She was going to find me in a state. And I was going to be even more irritated with her loud brain than usual. I sighed and winced at the pain.

The heavy ache of guilt tightening my jaw and bunching my shoulders seemed only fitting given my dark mood. I knew somewhere in the back of my memory that I'd felt good recently--that Eric had made me feel extremely good, but now it seemed to have all flown out the window, along with my motivation. I don't know how, but I knew it was coming. Something about when I fell asleep last night was bugging me. Maybe it was seeing Bill so drawn and weak, maybe it was that disturbing, needing look on Eric's face just before he wore me out. Whatever it was, it had bloomed overnight and now, well, now I was in a state.

My dreams, naturally, hadn't help. All I could see was Claudine happy in the chair next to me in the hospital, knitting something for her beautiful little fairy baby. And then her image morphed into something awful. Something broken and drawn and drained of life. I flashed to that knitting needle sticking out of Breandan as he breathed down on me.

Then her face changed into Dawson's--bright and smiling in front of my house one minute, then dripping blood onto the floor of that makeshift hospital room the next. It just went on and on: There was Bill, strong and sneaking up behind Thing One like my very own avenging angel. Then he was there gray, sunken, barely able to move at human speed, let alone vampire speed. By the time I got to Gran's round, gently creased face, I was convulsing on the bed, shaking my head tightly and giving myself kink after kink in my tightly wound neck muscles. I tightened up all the more, making the pain in my back more pronounced.

When I finally opened my eyes and saw my hands all healed and pink, I'd never felt such shame.

Having people willing to die for you sounds romantic, but now I couldn't believe I'd ever been touched by the sentiment.

It's horrible--a curse. I'm nothing--just a barmaid. Just a small-town girl with a disability who wanted friends and wanted to date someone without hearing every commentary that passed through his head about me. And now magical creatures, far more magical, more beautiful than me, more kind... They'd all died. And I was left alive, but barely hanging on.

I was shaming their memory by not getting better, and I was too fragile to live up to their faith in me.

A little spark of energy filled me, a red hot one. It wasn't right, wasn't fair that they put this on me. I never asked it of them. A person shouldn't have the power over the life and death of another. That's only for God. Bill and Claudine and even Tray had agreed to guard me even without me asking or even knowing it sometimes, and they'd thrown themselves headlong in front of every menacing, deadly thing that aimed itself at me. What'd they get for their trouble? Nothing but pain, suffering and death. No pretty fairy babies for Claudine. No romance for Tray. None for Bill either, I realized sickeningly, as a vision of his face from last night flashed in my brain, filling me with a thousand different feelings, most of them knotting my belly uncomfortably and making bile rise up in my throat.

It was too much. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't do this. I shivered in defeat, letting my slack muscles slump against the mattress. I felt the blood pounding at my temples and wondered, Why me? Why did I make it when they didn't?

I groaned.

Because, really, I had asked for it—asked for the protection, demanded it, even. Some stern part of my brain asserted itself and reminded me of the calls I'd made just before the war: To Alcide to call in my Friend of the Pack status, to Niall, to... Oh good Lord. Eric had been right. My breath hitched and I cursed myself for crying again. Here I'd convinced myself that Eric had gone to war on my behalf because he cared about me and he'd reminded me, just last night, that I'd insisted he do it not because I was his Bonded but because King De Castro had promised his protection. And--oh Lord! Clancy. I'd totally forgotten.

And that stern, mean voice—cruelly honest as it was--reminded me of the little conversation between Eric and Clancy just before the carnage at the supe hospital. Clancy didn't want to die for a human.

If you die, you'll die because I, your Sheriff, ordered you to. The reason is not pertinent... Eric had said. At the time I remember feeling that the fight was ill-timed and insulting, that Clancy didn't think I was worth protecting.

But now I knew the truth, to my spasming muscles and achy bones: Clancy was right. I wasn't worth it. I wasn't worth dying for. And he had. They all had.

And for what? I didn't warrant such devotion and I surely couldn't live up to it. I was no better than Arlene, I thought bitterly. I'd wanted love and companionship at any cost, and it had cost those I loved dearly. I'd been so hell-bent on staying alive that I'd killed and offered up others for the slaughter.

Maybe I should be ordered to stay away from vampires, like Arlene had been ordered to stay away from the Fellowship--not because they were dangerous for me, but because I was dangerous to them.

The thought left me cold and I felt tiny and more alone. I didn't have humans willing to stand by me—not even my own brother, I thought bitterly. Though he wasn't exactly human anymore, either. Maybe neither of us ever were. Still, maybe I shouldn't have supes. I didn't know where I belonged anymore. This defeat felt familiar, and my healing wounds tingled in sympathy.

Out of nowhere I was right back to where I'd been before Eric had arrived and scooped me up off the floor and bathed me in his blood. I was... I was so broken. More broken than ever.

I brought a pillow to my face and let my tears soak it. Maybe I could just disappear. If it would bring them all back, I'd do it in a second.

***

I opened my eyes and it felt like a 20-pound weight was sitting on the back of my eyeballs. I guess that's what was pushing the tears out because I realized as my eyes fluttered open that I was crying in my sleep.

I tried to rouse myself from my sorry mood, remembering that this wasn't me, that I was stronger than this, reminding myself how much I'd survived. But my sourness stuck to me like stink on shit. I lowered my head to the mattress and squeezed my arms under me to make myself a tight little ball, like I used to when I was a kid while playing hide and seek with Jason. I'd thought if I just lay still enough, Jason wouldn't find me under the blankets; I would just fade away and disappear.

For once, I had no memory of my dream—no flashes of pain or loneliness. Just a heavy old feeling--so heavy I thought it might be pressing a Sookie-sized hole into my old mattress. I vaguely remembered a time when I hadn't been able to get out of bed, a time when Gran had come around day and night to check on me and feed me and comfort me even though I wouldn't accept the comforting. How could I have? I'd lost the most important people in my life. I squeezed my eyes shut against the memories and then opened my eyes, reminding myself that I was 27, not 9, and that I'd turned out just fine without them. I stretched a little and all the usual aches and pains were there. Somehow they seemed worse in the light of day.

I felt my shoulders bunch and my body heaved. I was bawling and the keening grief just built with every sob. It hardly seemed fair. Crying was supposed to be a release. It wasn't supposed to make things worse.

I lay there for a long few minutes, just feeling myself cry, feeling the stab of pain in my neck and back every time a sob rocked through me. All I could think was, alone.

When I could, I dragged myself to Eric's side of the bed. The cool dryness of the sheet was a comfort, as was Eric's thick scent on the pillow. I pressed my nose into it and a new sob bubbled up from my belly.

Alone. I missed him. I didn't deserve him. Maybe I couldn't do this to him anymore--subject him to how dangerous I was. I pressed my cheek into the mattress and closed my eyes against the glaring light. Why do I miss him so much if he was just here a few hours ago? When did I become that woman?

I sighed, defeated. This illness had changed me, in ways I wasn't sure I liked and I certainly didn't approved of it. I'd seen too many women give up everything for a man. I'd seen too many women pin all their hopes on a fella only to have him disappear, and take her CD player with him. I tried to shake my head in frustration at myself, but my neck wouldn't allow it.

But here I was. I had been alone with Eric Northman for just about one week and I was hopelessly, irrationally in love with him.

And it hurt. I let myself cry: for the woman I once was--a woman with backbone. For the future I'd never have. And for the fear that I'd be just another foolish woman who got her heart stomped by a man who never promised anything. Or the other fear, the fear that my love would hurt him eventually, if it hadn't already.

In for a penny, in for a pound--both of us.

Bonnie's POV

Ay dios mio. If those girls don't stop fighting with each other over their school clothes, so help me God I will lay their clothes out on the front porch and have an impromptu yard sale. Then the girls can wear my castoffs and their daddy's and aunt's hand-me-downs from when they were kids and see how lucky they are to have everything they do.

I glanced at the time on the little digital display on my old two-door Fiesta. 12:21 p.m.

It was our own fault. I couldn't help but love those girls. When Hector told me he wanted me to take the girls for a few years while he got his life straightened out, I couldn't have been more thrilled. Having my own babies out of the house made me so sad. I was a mom, even when I was a child. I liked having someone to fuss over and care for, and Sal could only take so much of it before he started grunting and growling and puffing his chest out about being a man and doing things his own self. I chuckled. My Sal. He was so good to me.

So good that when Hector asked me, his favorite Aunt, to take in the girls, he'd made a show of considering it and then he'd given in with that sweet smile of his, pleased that I was pleased. I missed the energy of curious young children running around my house. I missed having a family to cook for. Sure, Sal loved my cooking, and I loved cooking for my patients, but having a big family dinner with everyone talking over each other and reaching across the table for seconds makes my heart sing.

I smiled a small smile. I thought of last night's dinner. Cece and Theresa were debating the relative attractiveness of the new boys they'd met at Cece's special social group, using criteria like their proficiency at some new video game player and how fast they could run, and I'd reached across the table and taken Sal's hand. Sal gave me that look he always did—that look of patient indulgence. He'd been happy to have the house to ourselves. He loved being able to corner me in the kitchen and smooch on me while the chicken fried. Now that the girls were with us, those uninterrupted moments were few and far between. But I did my best to make it up to him and give him a little sugar when I could.

I glanced back at the clock. 12:43 p.m. At this rate, I'd get there just on time at 1 p.m.

I'll be honest: When I received the call this morning from my agency telling me Mr. Northman had asked me to come in late and stay till 9 p.m.--well, the words that came out of my mouth would have made a sailor blush. I know because Sal looked at me with wide eyes and a mouth agape--and he'd served in Korea with some of the bawdiest guys I'd ever met. Thank heavens the girls were in the middle of their ritual morning bickering about what they were going to borrow from one another and what was clean and they hadn't heard me. I would have been mortified, and they sure never would have let me forget it. The next time I tried to correct their growing potty mouths, Cece would just roll her eyes and Theresa would giggle.

But the promise of a $500 bonus for staying late, plus the time-and-a-half I got for working after hours zipped my lip real quick. Besides, I understood the reason: Mr. Northman had business to attend to and Sookie, the poor dear, really shouldn't be left alone in that house while he's out.

I did worry about her being alone this morning, though. I hoped she hadn't hurt herself. And I wondered sadly where all her other friends were.

I'd been so surprised the first day I'd arrived at her house. I was used to watching after vampires' fancy women. Ay yi yi. I can't tell you the number of young, beautiful and nearly drained women I've had to nurse back to life in the last five years. I shook my head and narrowed my eyes as I turned onto Hummingbird Lane from the highway. Their vampires only stopped by when my three-week contracts were nearly up and they quickly sent me away as soon as they arrived. When I returned the next day, those poor girls had been nearly ravaged by those vampires, covered in fang marks, and I'd had to start all over again bringing them back to health.

Sometimes the extra pay isn't worth the heartache of this job. I shook my head.

The crunch of the gravel under my little car made it list left and right as I slowly pulled up in front of Sookie's sweet little farmhouse. I looked at it again. This was a well-loved house. It reminded me of the little house my parents' family had in Reynosa, a little border town just south of Texas. It's not that their little adobe house resembled this white clapboard house. It's that it looked lived-in and appreciated, if not totally maintained. It was the kind of house generations treasured. When I saw that the back of the house was newer than the front, and that the rooms seemed to be added on with no rhyme or reason, I had loved the house instantly. And I'd decided I'd loved Sookie instantly, too--even with how suspicious and scared she was of me.

That's what had surprised me about Sookie. She wasn't like all those—well, there's just no other word for them--fangbangers I'd nursed back to health. She wasn't nearly drained. She was scared out of her wits and clearly had PTSD. I'd seen it before once, in the male companion of a particularly well-connected Were. The Were didn't even stop to think that his life could be affecting his mate's until one too many wars left the human trembling on the floor. I'll tell you, you haven't seen powerless till you've seen a six-foot-tall man scared of a five-foot grandma.

But Sookie--oh, she's a scrappy one. I hefted the groceries onto a hip as I found the right key for the kitchen door.

As I went through the mundane routine of unlocking the door and carrying everything inside, I thought about that first day I saw Dr. Eugenides at the door. I'd met him before, of course. A few of my patients with big-shot supe boyfriends or girlfriends had contracted for the doctor's services. The first time I saw him, you couldn't have stopped me from laughing and I'd quickly excused myself to the kitchen to titter in privacy. But when I saw him at Sookie's door, I was nothing but relieved. It proved what I already knew; Sookie was different. Dr. Eugenides only came out for serious cases and for people who were ready to do the work. I knew then that I didn't have to worry about Sookie. Not much, anyway.

Once inside, I looked around and listened. Not a peep. Sookie must still be sleeping. I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. If I knew this vampire, he'd kept Sookie up late even though I had expressly told him not to. But that's how it goes with vampires. You can't tell them anything, especially when they're in love.

And that vampire--he is definitely in love. I'd never seen a vampire so attentive. Heck, I'd never seen a vampire volunteer to stay at his human's house. I usually worked around Shreveport's nicer neighborhoods where supes kept their homes and their humans. That he came here, that he stayed here, meant something for sure. And not only that. He gave such nice gifts. Oh, if Sal had ever gotten me a slip like that one Mr. Northman got for Sookie...! Well, I'd slap him for spending so much of his pension on something so frivolous. But not until I'd kissed him silly first.

And the fact that Sookie looked better--healthier--after a night with her vampire... That said a lot.

But Sookie, she seemed less sure. I didn't know if it was the PTSD, which can surely do some strange things to your love life, or if it was just how she was, but Sookie sure didn't seem sold on her vampire. I shook my head. I'd probably never find out why.

I'd never say so--it's not my place and I doubted either of them would listen to me anyway--but these two were sweet together. I flashed back to the night Sookie had collapsed in the shower. She'd been so terrified, and Mr. Northman had been there immediately. I nearly jumped out of my skin when that big hunk of a vampire shot into Sookie's room. I struggled to pull Sookie up and drag her to her bed, and then suddenly this big, shirtless vampire was standing over me, fangs bared, hands curling into claws that scared the living daylights out of me. Oh, my. But then he'd spoken softly to me and dismissed me. In the split-second before I ran from the house, I'd seen Mr. Northman curl against Sookie and cuddle her to him, asking her to tell him what was wrong.

Young love. They were wasting so much time fighting and resisting each other. I don't care if you are a vampire, you never know how long you're going to get to spend with the person you love. Seemed like Mr. Northman knew that. I wondered if Sookie did.

I put the bag on the counter and started putting the butter, eggs, celery, cans of soup and chicken away. I thought I'd make some chicken and dumplings for dinner tonight. It would take some time and I thought maybe, if she was up to it, she'd want to come into the kitchen and sit with me while she ate. I was determined to get that girl moving around a little today.

After unpacking the bag I turned to the kitchen table and smiled. I picked up Mr. Northman's daily note, tucked under a pile of small presents and next to the beautiful bouquet of flowers I hadn't been able to show Sookie yesterday because of the construction.

Bonita:

Your willingness to adjust your schedule today pleases me. I must attend a work meeting at first dark, and expect to be back by 9 p.m. I expect your agency has already informed you of the bonus I will pay if you monitor Sookie until then. I will also have a vampire guard placed outside in case of trouble, but I don't expect any and he's been ordered not to disturb you.

As for Sookie's care today, she will need copious support. She had a very long night last night--she had invited some workers over, and was later disturbed by the appearance of a rogue vampire. I expect that will not be problem after this night, but she may want to discuss it with you. Feed her well. The doctor has asked that she sit by the window regularly to work on getting outside. I would like for you to help her with this today, and encourage her to practice, if only for a few minutes.

I have also directed the construction crew not to return until my Sookie gives her approval. I have listed their number below. In the meantime, please pass along these gifts to my Bonded. A new bouquet will arrive today as well. Bring them to Sookie's room, along with this voice machine. It is cued up and ready to be played, I believe. I have left the instructions in case there are any difficulties. My cell phone number is below, in case Sookie has need of me while I am away.

Do your best to assure her that I will return to her as quickly as possible. I expect this to be difficult news for her.

Eric Northman

I shook my head. Vampire or not, Mr. Northman was a man, which meant he'd left the dirty work of telling Sookie that he'd be away tonight to me. Sheesh. First he leaves me to deal with the fallout of the construction on his lady, and now this? I'll earn every penny of that bonus today.

I hoisted the big bouquet of flowers in my arms and tucked the few other gifts under my arm and carried them unsteadily into Sookie's room.

I eased open the door and peered in, unsure what I'd find. I sighed. Poor, poor thing. She was curled into the tiniest ball she could make herself and her hands were clenched into fists at her chest. I shook my head. She was trying to protect herself from something.

I walked as quietly as I could across the room and placed the flowers by the window and arranged them prettily. I placed the two wrapped gifts on her bedside table with the little recorder atop it. Sometimes I wondered how these old vampires learned technology. It amused me that he left the instructions to the little device. I wonder if there's anything recorded on there at all.

Then I pulled the calendar out from under my arm. I scanned the cover. Vampire Hunks of Fangtasia, huh? I'd heard of that bar. A few of the fancy women I'd nursed back to health had talked about getting better and heading back over there. I never understood the appeal.

Then I flipped open the calendar to the current month and my breath caught. Oh... Oh, my. My. Um. Oh. I swear, I must have turned five shades of red. I hung it on the little nail to the right of the window by the bathroom door and left it at that.

I scurried away quickly, trying to distract myself from what I saw and the little note attached. Maybe I wasn't supposed to open it. Maybe I wasn't meant to see it. Maybe...

Oh. But I'd never look at Mr. Northman the same way again.

I fanned myself and swayed my hips a little wider as I walked swiftly back into the kitchen.

Sookie's POV

I opened my eyes grumpily, but then my vision focused on Eric's perfect butt.

I snapped my eyes shut quickly, figuring this was another one of those dreams where I imagine making love to him in a field in the daylight--imagining he's human and works a regular job and that when we make love he gives me a baby. I sighed, happy for a respite from the dark thoughts that haunted me today. I tentatively stretched myself out a little. A pang of pain shot up my side and into my neck and told me that wasn't a good idea.

I wished he were really here, and I could somehow not be dangerous to him. I allowed my mind to replay my favorite fantasy: Eric walking up to the house some Saturday afternoon with fish caught from the lake. His skin would be glowing tan, the sun glinting off his golden hair. He'd hand me the fish and press me against the counter in the kitchen and I almost wouldn't mind that suddenly my whole kitchen smelled like fish--that he smelled like fish. I'd kiss him back and throw the fish in the sink and he'd prop me up on the counter and slide my panties off and fuck me right there, under my little cotton sundress.

I felt heat gathering in my stomach and groaned. In my dreams, Eric's tan skin would have a sheen of sweat covering it as he moved into me, and he would taste of salt and the sun and a little pungent. I'd feel his beard scratch my neck as he sucked and bit. I'd tug down the top of my dress, anxious to feel his lips on my breasts and Eric would groan, looking up at me with that look. I sighed. That look that he only had once, when he depended on me, when he needed me truly, more than anything else.

"Sookie," he'd pant, his breath coming fast, my body arching in response. He'd take my mouth and bite softly on my lips, making me moan. He'd be perfect.

But always in this dream—always—when he got to my breasts, when his whiskers scratched the delicate skin and his warm tongue found my nipples I would begin to shake. And I couldn't help it—I always felt his fangs at that moment, his dull teeth turning deliciously sharp, biting into me and sucking. And I'd come. It'd be like he sucked it right out of me.

I panted here and now, blinking a little, feeling my own sweat and my own heart beat race. I ran my hand over myself and paused at my tingling breasts, fingering the little indents of the marks left by Eric's last feeding. I felt the blush rise higher on my cheek.

I'd never have a normal life, I knew. And now my abnormal one seemed shot too.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for reality: I'd never get to see his butt in the daylight. My lover, such as he was, was dead to the world and laying in a little cubby under my guest room closet. A wave of regret flowed through me and suddenly I was sad. Sad and groggy. And then my mind remembered what I'd been shutting out this morning. All those lost faces flooded through my mind and I was so sad I couldn't even cry.

What time was it, anyway?

I opened my eyes and as they focused, my mood changed so fast I thought I might have whiplash. A giggle escaped my lips. I'm not usually one to giggle, but I just couldn't help it.

I rolled onto my stomach carefully, mindful of the ache in my side and back, and peered out from behind my lashes at Eric's perfect, round, gorgeous butt staring back at me. I may have hummed a little.

That vampire.

I pulled myself from the covers, which had wrapped around my wobbly legs, and went to stand in front of the butt in question. My muscles protested, but even grief couldn't keep me from admiring this.

Mr. February.

Eric had apparently pinned the new Vampire Hunks of Fangtasia calendar to my wall when I was sleeping. This year, instead of being propped up on a bed with a robe just barely covering his Mr. Happy, he was looking out from a very steamy looking shower, his goods covered by the fogged glass of the shower door, water falling in rivulets down his perfect, muscled back, dipping in to the delicious curve of his waist and on to his award-winning butt. He smoldered at the camera, mouth slightly open and fangs peeking out.

Oh my stars. I had never wanted to lick those fangs more. And maybe bite his butt a few times.

My heart raced and I felt my skin grow hot... I shifted on my feet and felt my bones and muscles and joints creek and sigh. Some of the ache was good, though, and I smiled a little wider, remembering Eric's intent look and his hard thrusting, and marveled at my healing body's ability to take it, to welcome it, despite everything. My throat was suddenly terribly dry. And if I traced my fingers over the curve of his butt, well, I was just admiring what had to be one of God's greatest creations.

Not that I'd tell him that. His head was big enough already. I was amazed it could fit through that shower door.

When I pulled my eyes from his butt, I noticed a little Post-It on the calendar:

Dear One,

I thought of you with every frame.

Until first dark,

E

PS--Care to see an outtake?

I shivered and bit my lip. I looked back at that butt and his eyes and those fangs and the curve of his lower back. I ran my finger down the curve of his shoulders and back. Now here, I thought, was the one man who hadn't offered to die for me. Now I was glad. I hoped he never would. I hoped I never put us in that situation again.

Us.

I shook my head. I tried to swallow but my throat was like sandpaper. I might have been a little light headed.

I shook my head. Nope, I wasn't going to moon over Eric like some lovesick fangbanger, and I certainly wasn't going to spend time trying to parcel out what all these conflicting emotions were. I was already on overload. Nope. I had things to do. And they started in the bathroom.

I'd have plenty of time to talk to Dr. Gumby about my doubts and fears and guilt. Right now, I needed a bath, and I needed it bad.

***

I had just leaned down to try to start the water in the tub, dying for a Epsom Salts bath, when I heard Bonnie's loud brain barreling down on me. Cece's gotta be good this week because next week she... Sal so sweet last night... Hope Sookie likes chicken and--

"Oh! I thought that was you!" Bonnie said behind me, causing me to whirl and wince at once. I was still wearing Eric's big old robe and Bonnie looked at me all goo-goo eyes and her brain was no better, carrying on about how "my vampire" sure knew how to take care of me, and her mind flashing with no small lust to the calendar and her skin turning lots of shades of red. "I'm glad you're up. I understand you had a long night?"

"Yeah," I said, hoping she'd leave. Not only was I in physical pain, but the struggle to keep her thoughts out was already starting to give me a headache. I could do without her opinions of my body or Eric's. Though of course she was right about his.

I sat on the edge of the tub as it filled and rested my head in my hands. They were cool and felt nice on my face.

I felt a light touch on my shoulder and heard Bonnie thinking sympathetic thoughts. Ugh. I just wanted to be miserable. And I just wanted to do it alone. But how do you say that to someone's grandma? Gran wouldn't forgive me.

I huffed out a long breath and looked up at Bonnie, who's calm, quiet brown eyes were studying me impassively. I winced again and my hand flew to my neck.

"Sore, huh?"

I nodded carefully.

Bonnie made a small sound and nodded her head. "Well, then, I know what to do about that."

And just like that she was gone. I looked up and said a little thank you to Jesus. I was just sighing, enjoying how quiet the room became when she was gone, when I heard her brain coming back. She was excited because she'd been certified in massage and hadn't gotten to use it much. Great.

Just then, I started to feel... itchy--if you can be itchy from the inside out. Just... uncomfortable, like I was coming out of my skin. Like something wasn't right. I was irritated at myself for looking at Bonnie's gifts as burdens, and irritated with her for being so unflaggingly cheerful and efficient. Sometimes you just want to lie in bed for a day and feel sorry for yourself.

I could see that Bonnie wasn't going to let that happen.

She appeared in the bathroom door hefting a big bag of Epsom salts and grinned at me. She was so proud that she'd remembered to add them before I got in.

"Well, now," she started, as she ripped open the bag with strong hands and started pouring mounds of the little crystals into the water. She peered up at me as I watched them fall in. "This is quite different from the last time we did this, huh? You're holding yourself up on your own, for one thing. That's a good sign. And you started the water yourself. That's a good sign too."

I grunted. She was right. I just didn't want to look at how I was doing better. I just... couldn't feel like I deserved it--to feel better, to get better.

She swirled the crystals around until they dissolved and then looked at me expectantly. I nodded, resigned and stood carefully, grabbing my back like I was 60 instead of 27. Come to think of it, Bonnie was probably 60 and she was much stronger than I was. She reminded me of Gran so much. I gave her a small smile and then it faltered, Gran's image morphing again, as it had done in my dream. I felt the beginning of tears, and... Oh, hell. I just gave up. Fine. I'm crying. Again. All day long. That's what I do now.

I sighed and stood and turned and took the robe off. I averted my eyes from Bonnie. I balled my fists. I hated this. I hated that this was my life now. I hated that I needed her so much. I couldn't have met her eyes now if I wanted to.

If Bonnie noticed, she didn't comment on it, even in her brain. In fact, she seemed to think this was normal, which I guess relaxed me just the tiniest amount. Again, she was picturing other people she'd helped into baths like this--in particular a big hulk of a guy who looked frightened and wouldn't look at her. And just like now, then she just thought how proud she was that he was taking the step to get better.

So I moved. I did what she instructed. I lifted one foot into the hot water and then the other. I let her steady me and guide me to lie back. I let her place a washcloth under my neck and another over my eyes. I heard her rummage in the cabinet and when she returned I let her start brushing out my hair.

And when she spoke, after many minutes of just her brushing my hair and humming and thinking about what she was going to do with $500, I didn't have the energy to deny her.

"So what has you so wound up this morning, Sookie? Is it fallout from that construction yesterday? I wouldn't blame you if it was."

I slowly shook my head, feeling the massage on my neck from where it met the edge of the tub. The water felt nice. I didn't feel less tense, just... warmer. The towel over my eyes was calming, and it was nice that I could cry without her seeing.

"I just..." I started. But how... How do you explain something like this? How do you tell someone you're responsible for six deaths that you know of, two at your own hand? How do you explain how rotten it makes you feel, to your core?

"I... was thinking of people who've died," I said lamely. I didn't add because of me. I didn't want to scare her.

Bonnie clicked her tongue and made soothing sounds, her fingers now massaging my scalp in a way that made me cry harder, though that made no sense. I blubbered. Well, I guess that cat's out of the bag.

I shivered. Or rather, I started to shake, as the feelings started welling up again. Behind the washcloth, I saw Claudine, Clancy, Gran, Dawson... Then I saw Amelia leaving in tears. I cried again and brought my hands up to cover my face even more than it already was. There weren't enough washcloths in the world to cover my shame. I tried to curl in a little but Bonnie held me still.

She rubbed my shoulders and massaged my arms till she got to my hands, moving them away.

"None of that now, dear," she said, her tone a little sharp. Now that really did remind me of Gran. "I don't know what you've been through to make you feel so hurt, but I'll tell you this: Those people who died? They loved you. And they'd be awful upset if you wasted what was left of your life mourning them instead of living."

I nodded. I knew it. It was true. But that didn't make the shame go away.

She patted my shoulder.

"Lean forward." I complied and Bonnie started rubbing my neck in deep, slow swipes, pushing the knots of muscle up and away from my spine.

"Now I'm going to tell you something," she said a few minutes later. Her voice was tense and thin and she almost sounded angry. "And I'm going to trust that it won't leave this bathroom. Can I trust you with that, Sookie?"

I sniffled pitifully and nodded.

"Good. Now... I told you I cared for my folks when they got older. Well, I also liked to help when any of my brothers had babies, or any of my nieces and nephews did. Well, my nephew Hector..."

She paused, and her hands stopped on my neck and I squeaked a little in protest without meaning to.

She took a deep breath. "Bonnie, you don't have to..."

"I know, I know," she said irritably. In a way, I preferred her irritation to her cheeriness. "But... Well, you know, Sookie. I like you. I hate to see you suffering like this. And if this can help alleviate some of the guilt, well, I'll do what I can. It may not help. But maybe it will."

I nodded and wrapped my arms around my knees. Bonnie moved on to my shoulders and I almost moaned with relief.

"Well, Hector is a sweet boy. He's my older brother's son, his first born. The kids I'm raising now, they're his. The sweetest little girls you can imagine." Her brain told me something different. The oldest was a teen. Not sweet. "Well, I was there when Hector's wife, Esther, had her second child--Cecelia was first, and next was Jaime. He was a tiny little thing--fit is his daddy's palm he was so small. But he was full of life, always squirming and letting us know he was there.

"Well, three months after his birth, Esther was just getting back into her routine, and I was doing a night shift for them--watching Jaime, feeding him the bottles Esther had prepared, changing his diapers... You know, the usual things. Holding him... Oh! Holding a three-month-old—have you done it?"

I shook my head and it was a little easier. My whole body was on high alert, though. If something happened to a little three-month-old baby, I didn't know if I could handle it. I hugged my knees tighter.

"Well, they're just perfect at that age. They just curl up on you and sleep. You've never felt anything so good or so natural. That baby smell just makes you baby-drunk. I swear, if I hadn't had the surgery--" I could see from her mind that she'd had a hysterectomy, "--I would have run back to Sal and tried to get pregnant again right away!"

She laughed and then grew quiet. Her thumbs jabbed into the knots where my neck and shoulder met and I groaned. A good groan.

"So I was watching him, letting Esty get a little shut-eye, and after his bottle and a little Auntie time, I put him in his crib. He was sleeping so soundly, all bound up in his swaddling blanket and looking like a little bug in a rug. So I went in the other room, to straighten up, and I don't know what."

She stopped moving. Her voice got so quiet and still it scared me.

"When I checked on him an hour later he wasn't breathing."

I sucked in a breath and my hand flew to my mouth. I blinked away tears. And then I was angry.

"Wh-Why are you telling me this?! That's... That's just so terrible, Bonnie! What did you do?"

"I... Well I panicked. Nothing had changed. He'd just stopped breathing. I tried putting him over my shoulder to burp him, thinking maybe a bubble of formula got stuck in his throat, but nothing came out. I'd been trained in CPR and so I tried it on him. I checked his mouth and he hadn't gotten anything in it. I took him out of the swaddling blanket and looked him over. Nothing seemed wrong. I..." Her voice had grown thick and then it cracked. She swallowed hard and I didn't care about the washcloth anymore. I let it fall and turned to look at her. Her eyes were clouded and spilling over with tears. Her jaw clenched. Worry lines creased her face.

Suddenly, she looked right at me.

"It.. It was the worst night of my life, worse than my parents' own deaths. I woke up Esty and Hector. Cece stayed asleep until her mama started wailing. Seeing her come into the nursery and see her mom slapping me... well, I don't know if you ever get over that. It was declared Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. That's what the doctors call it when they can't explain the death. They even tried to say that maybe it was because we were poor."

I narrowed my eyes to match hers. It was the worst thing I could imagine... almost.

"Oh Bonnie..." I reached out and put a hand on hers. I squeezed it. I would have hugged her, but that might have seemed odd, as I was naked and wet.

She looked down and shook her head. She squeezed my hand back.

"Esty and Hector were never the same, as you can well imagine. Hector started drinking more. Esty had the worst case of post-partum depression you can imagine. When she had Theresa, we all held our breath until she was a year old. I offered to come help with the baby, but Esty didn't want me there. I couldn't blame her, and I'd never tell her but I was a little relieved. I'd stopped caring for the family's newborns after that. I blamed myself. I just knew--I knew!--that there was something I could have done. Here I was, trained to help people, to nurse them back to health, and I'd missed all the signs, whatever the signs were. I'd let him die on my watch."

She looked up at me and it was like the baby was right here in the room with us. She looked destroyed, shocked, like it still didn't make sense.

Then I saw flashes in her brain: Horrible fights between Bonnie's nephew and his wife. Three a.m. phone calls from Hector to get the kids out of the house because he was drunk and so was she, and the kids were frightened. I heard her think about how she didn't know if she could trust herself with those kids, how she forced herself to stay up all night, and watched them obsessively until dawn. How Esty never forgave her, how the couple divorced and Esty got custody, but then her drinking got as bad as Hector's and Hector suggested Bonnie take the kids when social services came out to check on why the girls hadn't been in school.

I watched it all play out in her eyes and her brain.

And then I didn't care. I hugged her anyway. When she pulled away, she was fierce.

"Mija, I can't tell you how much I wish I could go back and hold that little boy in my arms again and keep hold of him and watch him so I could do something when he stopped breathing." Her hands were shaking in mine and her face turned steely. I had no doubt that she would have kept him alive by breathing for him if she could have. I could see her doing it.

"I had lots of days in bed where nothing Sal said was right and nothing he did could have soothed me. But then one day, Hector asked me to take the girls, just so he and his wife could have some time to get their lives together," she told me, trying to be diplomatic about what really happened. "I had been feeling so much better, and taking the girls actually made me feel worse at first. I was terrified it would happen again. But... I just had to move forward. I just had to do it for them. And I had to trust in Jesus that it wouldn't happen again. It felt like God was giving me another chance, and it seemed like it would have been an abomination to say no."

She squared her eyes at me.

"Now, I don't know what happened for you. I don't know who died or why. But God gave you this life, gave you another chance. And you had better take it. Those people, they'd be just livid if you lost this chance."

I turned back around and slumped into the cooling water. I couldn't look at her for this.

"It was my fault," I said, my quiet voice cracking. I coughed. "They... They were trying to protect me. And they died. I lost some wonderful people because I'm... I'm too much trouble." I stared at the grout.

Bonnie took up massaging me again.

"Were they adults?"

I nodded.

"And they loved you enough to put themselves in harm's way for you?"

I nodded again. I knew where this was going but it just didn't seem to cut through the fog of shame I felt.

"Would you do the same for them?"

"Of course," I said, almost offended that she would ask. Never let it be said that Sookie Stackhouse doesn't take up for her own. "But..."

"No," she interrupted me. "Now, I'm not a doctor, and you should maybe run this past that doctor of yours... But let me tell you something about family: I would have gladly crawled into that crib and suffocated to keep that little boy alive. I would do it in a heartbeat today, right now." She punctuated that with a tight squeeze on my shoulders. The image scared me and reminded me of Gran on the kitchen floor. I choked on my tears.

"I would be irate at him if he wouldn't let me do it," she said, fairly growling. "And if I did it and he spent his life whipping himself for it, I would come back from the grave to slap him myself. He would have been worth it because I loved him, young though he was. He was an angel."

We were a pair, both crying and sniveling in our own little hells. At least she was trying like the dickens to keep it under control. Her voice was getting harsher.

"You are lucky you had so many people who loved you. Take that message with you, not the shame. Do you know how many people out there have no one to take up for them? Who are left floundering and alone, and can't defend themselves? Let me tell you there are plenty. If there weren't, I wouldn't have a job. They loved you and the deed is done, and wherever they are, they are proud that they kept you alive. So you just let that in, mija. And you make them proud. You live your life like someone who has lots of people who love her."

She pushed me forward with her hand and then patted my shoulder. I turned a little ways to look at her out of the corner of her eye. She stood up and started moving around, getting my robe and a towel ready for me.

When I caught her eye, she looked abashed. Quietly, she added, "I'm sorry for going on like that, Sookie. I know that was a lot. But I just... I had to get it off my chest. I hope you won't hold it against me."

I looked up at her and felt all the fight leave me. I curled into myself and looked down at the water. I pulled at the chain to the stopper with my toe and let the water out.

"N--no," I managed to whisper.

She held a towel out in front of her for me to step into.

"Good," she said. "Now--you know what you need? Some chicken and dumplings. Come into the kitchen when you're ready and you can help me." She squared her eyes at me and I could see that she'd brook no disobedience. Maybe all grandmothers had that look. "No more moping around for you today."

***

I meant to just sit down, I swear. But two hours later, I woke up from a sleep so deep I woke in the same position where I laid and for once didn't have any bad thoughts. Too bad as soon as my brain became alert, I was bombarded with the faces that had haunted me all morning--but also a new one. A sweet little baby with a shock of dark hair and perfect little fingers, curled in and cold. I shook my head. This was what I hated about my curse. How come I had to have that image in my head now, too, when the story Bonnie told was bad enough? I'd never get rid of it now. It was right up there with knowing which Merlotte's patrons had cancer, which were in the middle of a divorce, which were secretly gay and lying to their families about it and which had just had a miscarriage. Telepathy is not a gift.

I gritted my teeth and tried to pull myself out of the deep pit I'd found myself in. What was nice? Bonnie giving me a massage was nice. I took a deep breath and then another one. I stretched my arms this way and that over my head. I took another deep breath and tried to remember what Dr. Gumby taught me. I tensed my muscles and released them in time, over and over again, and it was oddly calming. I was already tense, but bunching them up on purpose meant that when I let go, they actually relaxed a little.

By the time I opened my eyes again, 20 minutes had passed and I finally noticed the sweet scent wafting around my room. The sun was streaming in my window and dancing on the blooms of a big, beautiful bouquet of flowers I'd never seen before. I stood unsteadily, my muscles achy from being tense and from not being used.

I walked up to the flowers and smiled, fingering the tiny tight blooms and larger petals. Honeysuckle and orange blossoms and roses. I buried my nose in them and my head drowned in the heady smell. It almost managed to push my darkness aside. I pulled one of the honeysuckle blooms off the bouquet, separating the flower from the stem and letting the drop of nectar fall on my tongue. The explosion of sweetness in my mouth was a welcome change from the dank sourness from hours of sleep. Absently, I wondered how a vampire would know anything about honeysuckle, since it clamped shut at night. Still, it did smell delicious.

The card simply said, "For my sweet-smelling Sookie. Until first dark, E."

Something teased at my memory, fighting through all the sadness and shame that was nagging me today. Phantom fingers massaging shampoo into my hair. Eric's teasing voice close to my ear, making me shiver, even now. Oh my fair and beautiful Sookie, your fragrance is as sweet as honeysuckle and roses, never overpowered by the mange of shifters or weres, he'd said, over the top as ever, when he'd insisted on washing the "wet dog smell" off of me. I could just see his smirk. Please do forgive your humble vampire servant. I looked up at that calendar, at Eric in a shower and that world-class butt, and thought about the days. Was that really just two days ago? It seemed like a lifetime ago...

I picked up the card and held it to my lips, breathing in the smell of the flowers and the slightly chemical smell of the paper and ink. I smiled against it and slipped it into my drawer with the others. Next was a little pile of gifts and a little recorder on my bedside table. I picked up the recorder. I'd never seen anything like it and certainly never had cause to use something like that in my day-to-day life. I wondered how it worked and as I toyed with it a voice came on and I jumped.

"My... Skita*! *Click* *Click* My Sookie," came Eric's voice, first irritated and then regaining it's cool assuredness. "I considered leaving you a hand written note this morning but I thought..." And here his voice trailed off, a rare tick for Eric. He was never at a loss for words. He had all my attention now. "... Hearing your words, those beautiful words coming from your mouth this morning inspired me to leave a recording of my own words for you."

I smiled. I didn't know which words he was referring to. But he was right, I wanted to hear his voice.

"I wish to begin by, ah, apologizing for the damage done by the workmen yesterday. I trust in time you will grow to love the new floor. But I do regret your suffering yesterday. The work men need to return to finish the job, but they are under orders to refrain from any work until they receive your command."

I rolled my eyes. My command. I don't go around commanding things, and I don't think most decent people do, either. I could see him commanding, though, and it made me laugh to think of imitating his gruff, entitled demeanor. I command you to finish my floor! For Pete's sake.

But all this I thought quickly because Eric was on to the next thing. His tone changed slightly, becoming softer, gentler, in the way that he spoke when we were alone. I could imagine him holding my face in his hand and looking into my eye with this voice. My insides broke apart and rearranged themselves a little bit.

"I regret as well, dear Sookie, that I must be away from you for a short time at first dark."

I blinked. Oh. Something inside me broke apart and formed again as a knot in my chest. I took a deep breath and fumbled with the recorder, pressing buttons to try to get it to stop. When I succeeded I fell back on the bed and looked at my hands holding the recorder. The knot in my chest flexed and those damning fears slithered out from the dark spots on my soul and reminded me this would happen. I felt the air leave me. I clutched the blankets to me again and suddenly the crease in my hand between my thumb and finger became the most interesting thing in the room. I stared at it and my world became as small as that little space, that one-inch fold of flesh. I felt about as big.

***

It started small, a little tingle at the base of my spine. A little energy. And suddenly I went from feeling like I'd had the emotional wind knocked out of me to feeling a surge of energy. No, strike that. Of rage.

I tensed up all over and let out a scream. I flung the recorder across the room and watched as it broke into four big hunks of plastic.

In an instant, Bonnie was at my side, looking worriedly from the bits of recorder to my beet red and angry face.

"I hate him. I hate him," I seethed, my throat so tight with anger that it came out as a quiet hiss. Bonnie was in my face and I looked right past her, imagining I was strong enough to break Eric apart like that. Like he was breaking me. I was shaking. "I wish I could rescind his invitation right now. In fact..."

I stood up and shoved past Bonnie none to gently. I vaguely heard her fall to the floor but I couldn't care about her and her old bones right now. Right now, I'd be glad to see him burn in the daylight for treating me sweet last night and leaving me here tonight.

I found myself standing in the guest room, my childhood bedroom, and staring down at the little carpet-covered closet floor. My back was tight. I was rigid with fury, and that odd prickling, itchiness from the inside out crawled around my skin. I had to get it away… I had to get him away. Especially if that's what he intended to do me. I opened my mouth and a dry hiss escaped when I meant for it to be words.

I swallowed and tried again. I felt the tears leaving cold trails on my cheeks and could taste them on my lips. I narrowed my eyes, imagining him walking out the door anyway. The fury bubbled up again and I opened my mouth, this time without hesitation.

"Eric, I resc--"

"Sookie!" Bonnie's hand clamped over my mouth and for an older lady, she sure was strong. She wrenched me back out of the room and dragged me back to my bedroom. "That's enough! Enough of the self-pity and enough of the rage!"

She pulled us both back to my bed and fell backwards with me on her.

We scrambled around to sit up and face each other and Bonnie did an amazing job keeping her hand on my mouth the whole time. I was so out of my head I thought about biting it. Bonnie's face wasn't kind or sympathetic. She was furrowing her brow and angry.

"I've about had it today, Sookie. I know you're suffering. I can't imagine getting through yesterday, being kept up all night by that vampire of yours and then waking up with those terrible thoughts you've had this morning. I thought a nap would help. I thought those nice flowers from Mr. Northman might calm you. There are more. They arrived while you were asleep. See? There."

She turned my head, one hand clamped over my mouth the other tight on the nape of my neck. I refused to open my eyes, I was so angry. I didn't want to see anything sweet from him. He didn't deserve for me to go soft on him, not when he was leaving.

She wrenched my head back to her and I let out a little shriek, the movement surprising my muscles and causing a spasm. My eyes flew open just in time to see Bonnie narrowing hers at me.

She shook her head. "If I move my hand, do you promise not to rescind Mr. Northman's invitation? I won't have you killing someone on my watch."

She was dead serious. I flinched, struggling to breathe under her strangle hold on my face.

I sucked in a breath through my stuffy nose, my mind suddenly working again. I was aghast. For all the sadness I'd felt this morning about all the people who'd died on my account, here I was getting ready to send yet another person to their final death. Tears bubbled up and I shook my head, but only to shake myself out of whatever madness had overtaken me. I started crying and brought my hands up to my face to cover it. I've always been quick to anger, but I'd never intentionally hurt someone who wasn't also about to kill me. I was mad at Eric, and I hated to admit that the idea of him leaving made me feel like I would die, but it wasn't the same thing. When had I crossed that line?

Suddenly I could see myself for the monster I was becoming. My body shivered. I... I couldn't believe myself. I shook a little harder. I found myself leaning forward and curled into Bonnie's arms. She was shushing me and running her hands down my back and holding me close.

I convulsed against her shoulder and I could feel it--I could feel my bones losing connection with each other and my body losing its gravity and I could feel myself falling apart and losing touch with reality, with who I'd been. I'd always known that the Things' viciousness would change me forever, but this... This I couldn't do. I couldn't accept it. I wouldn't let myself become this.

Thank God for Bonnie.

"There, there dear," Bonnie was whispering, rocking me slightly. "This is the worst part. I promise you. It gets better. It gets better. It gets better."

I sobbed against her. I wished I could believe her.

She pulled me back and looked at me. I'm sure I was a fright: snot and tears dripping down my face, my hair a mess, my face burning red with shame and anger. I didn't dare meet her eyes.

She ducked her head so I'd look at her anyway.

"Now promise me that you won't rescind his invitation today or tonight, Sookie. Promise me."

She said it softly, but there was steel in her voice. I nodded dejectedly.

"This is no small thing, Sookie. I need you to say it."

I swiped a hand along my cheek, pushing my hair back from my face. I looked at her. "I promise. I won't rescind his invitation." My words came out in a creaky whisper.

"Good," she said, her eyes hard. "I'm going to hold you to that."

I nodded. "I hope you will."

I looked up at her and apologized for being such a mess.

She nodded and rubbed my upper arms with hers. She was still holding me upright, and for that I was grateful.

"So I guess Mr. Northman told you about work tonight?"

I started crying again, and in order to avoid meeting her eyes, I looked past her at the closet. The closet the light-tighting guy said I should make into a deluxe hidey-chamber for Eric. My heart dropped into my stomach, through the mattress and into the floor. "Yeah," I managed to whisper.

"He'll only be gone till 9, Sookie," she said. "He's coming back. He's assured me."

I took a shaky breath in and risked a look at her. She was appraising me with an understanding gaze.

"Listen, I don't know if this will help," she continued. "But I've worked with other folks with PTSD--I'm guessing that's your diagnosis, because it was theirs--and it's always hard on them the first time their supernatural mate goes away."

"Mate?"

But then, without any warning, I was inside her head again, and I saw that same big ole guy curled in the corner, rocking himself, and kicking at Bonnie if she threatened to get close. Bonnie was mad then at the man's boyfriend--a Were, I guessed from the image that came up in her head--for not giving him any warning. And, I realized with surprise, she was mad at Eric, too.

"It's a milestone in recovery, but it can also traumatize the human more--at least from the little experience I've had with it," Bonnie was explaining. "I'm no expert, you understand, but I've seen other folks--big strong men, Sookie, you wouldn't believe if I told you..."

But I did believe because I'd seen it. I'd seen the image in her head of the big burly guy who wouldn't change clothes and wouldn't shower and wouldn't talk for what seemed like days after his hunka hunka went away.

It was an awful fate. It wasn't the fate I wanted for myself.

I looked Bonnie in the eyes, and it was almost as if she was pleading with me.

"Seems to me your reaction is normal, Sookie. But because it's so painful and you're so vulnerable right now, we've got to do everything we can to keep you and your vampire safe. So no rescinding invitations, especially not during the day. And no hurting yourself tonight, Sookie. You have to promise me that. I know you may not feel like it, but you've got to eat. You've got to try to take good care of yourself today. Your body is under enough stress without subjecting it to more by denying yourself food or sleep or exercise or anything else the doctor says you should do."

I pulled Bonnie to me in a big old hug. I laughed through my tears and nodded.

"God bless you, Bonnie," I said. "I'm... To be honest, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do all that, but I'll try."

Bonnie hugged me back.

"That's all I ask, Sookie. Just give it a shot. You start feeling panicked or angry again, do your best to warn me, OK? We'll find something for you to do that won't hurt anyone. We'll get you through this."

I pulled back, feeling stronger for her faith in me, and nodded, grimly determined but determined nonetheless.

***

My hands were soft and covered in fluffy white flour and ice water as I tried to combine the two together to form dumplings that would make Gran proud.

The kitchen smelled amazing--of chicken and celery and cream and spices. Bonnie was bustling around the kitchen, chattering away in her mind about the right order to do things in and trying to remember all the steps from memory.

I for one knew how to make dumplings. I'd been making them at Gran's side since I was 12. It was my favorite part, getting my hands dirty in the squishy soft dough and then rolling it out. It was incredibly relaxing. I would swear that Bonnie was psychic if I didn't know better. How else to explain that on the day I was doing my worst she would make my favorite meal of all?

I pulled the glob of dough out of the bowl and placed it on a floured counter and went to work rolling it out. As Bonnie moved around, I started placing small dollops of the dough into the soup. My stomach was rumbling. Bonnie had fed me just after my bout of craziness, but I guess such upheavals work up an appetite. It was just an hour later and already I was ready to eat more.

"That's just great," Bonnie murmured as she moved up behind me and supervised me. She placed a hand on the middle of my back and patted lightly. I leaned back into her. "How you doing, Sook?"

I nodded and smiled a small, tense smile at the dough. The cooking was a comfort, but the terrifying images and feelings were still dogging me. Every time some thought came up--an image of Claudine's knitting needle sticking out of Breandan, or of that little babe Jaime or of Eric extra crispy on my lawn for no reason but my spite--I focused extra hard on cutting uniform-size pieces of dough. After all, it wouldn't do for them to be big and small. They'd never cook through otherwise. Gran had taught me that.

Gran had also been a fighter, and I'd be damned if I'd let the Things' cruelty make me just as bad as them. Screw 'em. Screw 'em all. I'd get better if it killed me.

In not too long, we were sitting at the kitchen table together and I was spooning the spicy, creamy and altogether comforting dish into my mouth. I closed my eyes and just concentrated on the soothing sensation of it sliding down my throat. I took bite after bite and felt myself relax a little. I was still a raw nerve, but it felt like someone had placed a cool, moist blanket over me, dulling the sensations and calming me just a little.

I didn't know if my body could handle another outburst like that, or another emotional bender. Oh, I knew I'd probably have one, but I hoped it wouldn't be today.

I took another sip and sighed happily.

"I'm thinking of making my bedroom light-tight for Eric," I said out of nowhere, my mind wandering. Truthfully, the dulling of the afternoon sky was reminding me that Eric would be up soon, and I didn't know how to handle it, so I thought I'd change the subject. I didn't want to do anything that would make me more upset, so I thought of asking Bonnie to intercept him and ask him to leave without seeing me. But another part of me, a part controlled by my body, ached to be in his arms, even for a few minutes before he left. I needed to... I guess I needed to hear him say he'd be back. Oh Lord. I can feel the tears coming again. See?

This is why I don't want to see him. Because it'll upset me again. Love hardly seems worth it right now.

I blushed.

"Is that so?" Bonnie answered, oblivious to my train of thought. "Seems like any construction right now might not be a great idea."

I looked up at her and sniffed, willing the tears back into my eyes. I nodded. "I know. I'm torn. I hope you don't mind me saying... Oh hell. Excuse my language. It's just... I can barely stand being away from him during the day."

And so being apart tonight, in the little time we have... Well, it made me so upset my body hardly seemed to be able to contain the grief.

"But yesterday... Well, that was too much. And this would be in my bedroom! And what if they couldn't get it done in one day?"

Bonnie nodded at me and patted my hand. "Don't you worry about that, Sookie. There's plenty of time to make this house vampire-friendly. I don't think Eric is going anywhere."

I looked down at my soup and nodded, not really believing it. I felt my teeth start to chatter and watched in horror as a tear fell into my soup.

"Oh Sookie," Bonnie said kindly, but all I heard was pity. "He'll be back tonight. You'll see. He'll be gone for a few hours and then he'll be back."

I nodded again, still in deep doubt. He'd be back tonight, but what about when De Castro comes to town? And I get better? Eventually it'll go back to him disappearing for months at a time. He won't really be mine, even if now I could admit to myself that's what I wanted.

Oh hell.

"Dammit," I said, the heels of my palms burrowing into my eye sockets. "I hate this. I hate vampire politics." I hate that he's a vampire and I'm a human, I thought. I hate that I'm so weak. I hate that it took me getting injured for Eric to act a little like his old self again, like that sweet vampire I fell in love with. I hate that with vampires, it's never simple. It's never just going to be him and me. Someone's always going to get in the way.

Bonnie's hand was clamped over mine tightly now, and she was interrupting my pity party with common sense.

"Well, I don't know about that, Sookie," she said a little dryly. "It's not a great time for him to be going away. But still, if he were human he'd probably have a job and he might have to take some time for it. Three hours out of the week and a half that he's been here with you seems like small potatoes."

I looked up at her.

Oh.

A small sensation started in my chest, a fluttering that eased the knot there. I bit my lip. Maybe…

And then I couldn't sit still. I wanted to see him more than anything.

I looked at the clock and smiled. As soon as supper was done, I excused myself to my bedroom and stole into my old jewelry box. I opened it and the little dancing ballerina popped up. This had been my jewelry box since I was 13, when Gran had given me an old pair of opal earrings for my birthday. She'd given me the earrings, which had been a special gift passed down from the women in her family all the way back to England, where they'd come from originally. She'd given me the jewelry box at the same time, and I'd never had cause to replace it. I didn't have much jewelry to write home about.

I pushed aside my bangles and the old watch whose battery had died and felt around at the back corner of the box. My fingers landed on just what I was looking for and I smiled.

Carefully, I pulled the two little dollops of metal wrapped in a little fabric forward and cradled them in my hand. I unfolded them and looked at the little slugs. Carefully, I pulled them to my face and sniffed them. I could still smell the faint scent of Eric and the metallic scent of his blood.

I kissed them and folded them up gingerly again, placing them in my jeans pocket for safekeeping. I closed my hand around them protectively. I couldn't wait for first dark.