Chapter 25

When Felicia and I left the hospital, after signing a stack of papers wherein I swore up and down that I understood I was leaving against medical advice and would not hold the hospital liable if anything happened to me, we got into her car and started driving out of the city. I realized we were heading to the lake, and I turned and looked at her.

"The lake house?" I asked.

She nodded.

It was a good choice, and I never would have guessed it on my own. We'd spent so much time on the lake when we were young. It was a happy place in my memory, and would probably be a good place for Sookie to heal. When Felicia bought the house there, we would spend a little time there every summer. I realized, however, that we hadn't been there—at least I hadn't—in a few years, and I also realized that it was because I had increasingly shrunk the borders of my life down to: work, my mother, my extended family, and the empty satisfaction of random women. I hadn't been living at all. I'd merely been existing.

When we pulled up, I saw that there were no cars in the driveway.

"She's alone?" I asked Felicia.

Her brow creased in concern. "Amelia and Claudine brought her here, but you know Sookie," she said. "She probably shooed them away as soon as she could."

We walked to the front door, and I waited for Felicia to unlock it.

"Uh uh," she said. "I promised Sookie privacy and a place to be alone. I'm already breaking that promise and risking my friendship with her by bringing you here. I am not just going to barge in there. If you want to talk to her, you're going to have to knock on that door and pray she's willing to open it for you."

So I did. I knocked. And waited. Then I knocked some more. I was starting to worry. It would be one thing if she knew it was me and was refusing to answer, but she hadn't even acknowledged the knocking. I looked at Felicia, but she just shrugged.

"Maybe she's asleep," she suggested.

"Or, maybe something's wrong," I countered, and knocked harder.

Then I heard her. "Amelia," she said with irritation as she opened the door. "I already told you I was f. . . fine," she stuttered.

I was at once struck stupid with happiness at seeing her again, while at the same time terrified because she did not look right.

"W . . . what are you doing here, Eric?" she asked, and that's when I realized her lips were blue—she was freezing!

"Jesus, Sookie, your lips are blue!" I cried out as I took a step towards her, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up in my arms, but she stepped away from me. I can't lie. Seeing her step back from me, in fear or perhaps pain, tore at my soul.

"D . . . d . . . don't," she said, as her teeth chattered.

I tried to help her, but she wanted nothing to do with me, so I finally asked Felicia to help her. It was obvious she was half frozen and I was furious. What was happening? Where were Claudine and Amelia? How could they leave her like this? But more than angry, I was terrified. She'd been through so much already, and I didn't think her body could take much more.

Felicia took control of the situation as usual, ushering Sookie into the living room and starting a fire in the fireplace. When Sookie admitted that her half-frozen state occurred because she'd run out of hot water, I felt my stomach clench in fear. I didn't need Felicia to remind me of the size of that water heater, and I could very well imagine her sitting alone in that shower until the water ran cold, and longer. Oh God, Sookie.

Then Felicia was yelling at me to go make Sookie some tea, and I left the room despite the fact that I wanted nothing so much as to be in her presence, even if she didn't want to talk to me. Fuck. She didn't even want me near her. I closed my eyes and replayed the way she stepped back from me. I shook my head, silently berating myself for allowing things to become this screwed up.

After a few minutes, Felicia came in to help me with the tea.

"Take this to Sookie and talk to her, Eric," she said handing me the mug. I took it from her and started toward the living room. "And, Eric," she stopped me, "make it good."

I walked towards Sookie and handed her the tea, somewhat hurt when I realized she took pains to avoid even touching my fingers. I sat down and began to apologize to her, but she cut me off and launched into a tirade.

At first, I understood her anger. Yes, I'd been an ass on Halloween, and the things I said should have been unforgiveable, although I prayed that she would forgive me. When she called me on being drunk, I once again tried to interrupt her, because it was clear she didn't understand my intentions at all. She was right; alcohol does loosen inhibitions and make us do exactly what we want, and yes, I meant what I said, but not the way she thought. She didn't understand that in my stupidity I thought I wanted to make her hate me, and she believed everything I said. I got exactly what I thought I wanted that night.

Fair enough.

However, when she started to rant about why I'd come after her and Bill, and began to demean herself, I was shocked. She thought I'd done it out of guilt? That I had a hero complex? Couldn't she see past the things I'd said to the things I'd done?

It wasn't until Sookie starting railing about how she was not worth it, and how I was so much more than she could ever be, that I began to realize how insecure she was. Did she really believe that? Could she really believe she wasn't worth saving? That somehow, in the scheme of life, I was more important than she was? It was then that I started to grasp that she was quite possibly as damaged as I was, and yet she had made the effort to keep on living—to seek out love and life and happiness, with Bill, Alcide, me—and we'd all failed her.

I stood up and walked over to her, but she didn't even realize I was there. She continued on with a full head of steam until I finally had to shout to get her attention.

And then I said it. I told her I loved her, and the world didn't end. Of course, if she didn't feel the same about me, I was sure the world would end. I meant everything I said to her. I could no longer fathom a life without her in it. I could no longer bear the thought of not having her by my side always. I could no longer abide waking up alone or eating another dinner by myself. I needed her like I needed the air to breathe, and I was not going to make the same mistake Niall made all those years ago.

I was going to make her mine.

Because I was already hers.

Of course, I didn't expect her to react as she did to my profession of love. I'd always believed that when a man told a woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, she would throw her arms around him, possibly kiss him, and if he was very lucky he'd get to make love to her then and there.

Instead, she slapped me. Twice.

"Stop fucking with my head!" she yelled at me. "I've had enough for two lifetimes!"

"Sookie, I'm not fucking with your head," I replied. "I love you. Completely and irrevocably, and you need to know that. Even if you never want to see me again, and God, I hope that's not the case, you need to know that I lied that night. I was afraid, terrified really; you were so right about that. I'm also a selfish bastard. I've strung you along, played this game with you, and even though I believed I couldn't give you more, I also couldn't walk away. I figured that for once, I'd stop being selfish. So, I said what I did to make sure you left, to make sure you hated me, because I knew I didn't have the strength to walk away from you." I chuckled mirthlessly, "I guess it worked. But the minute the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back, only you'd already run out.

"I chased after you, but I was too late, and Bill . . ." I trailed off as my stomached roiled, an uncomfortable reminder of my terror at watching him stuff her in the trunk and drive off. I choked back a small sob as I continued. "Seeing him take you . . . Oh God, Sookie, I've never been more terrified in my life. He had you, and I knew he would hurt you, and I was afraid he would do worse, and I kept thinking that my last words to you were hateful and that you would never know how I really felt."

Tears were streaming down her face, and I tentatively reached out to her, cupping her face with my good hand and brushing the tears aside with my thumb. She didn't pull away, but she didn't lean in to my touch, either. We still had a long way to go.

"You hurt me, Eric," she finally said. "You hurt me more than anything Bill did."

She looked up at me then, her unusual blue eyes brimming with tears, and my heart nearly shattered. All I wanted to do was love her. Help her heal. Make us both . . . better, and instead, I was making her cry. I slid my hand to the back of her neck and pulled her to me, feeling her resist at first, before she relaxed into my chest. I kissed the top of her head, whispering over and over, "I'm so sorry, my love. So, so sorry."

We stood there for a few minutes, not saying anything. I could feel the front of my shirt getting wet as she silently cried, and I just held her, brushing my lips over the top of her hair, inhaling her smell—although, for once, my body was not stirring in response. In fact, after a few minutes, I felt my knees begin to buckle.

"Eric!" Sookie cried out as I stumbled back and sat heavily on the couch. "Oh shit! Felicia!"

I looked down and saw that the wet spot I'd assumed was from Sookie's tears was actually blood seeping through my bandages. I guess this was my hint that I'd over-done it, but I couldn't regret it. Sookie and I still had a lot to work through, but I could tell now that we'd be able to—that she would want to.

For the next half hour or so the two of them clucked about me like a pair of mother hens, changing my bandage and making sure my feet were elevated. When the dizziness passed, they had me move to one of the bedrooms to rest. Sookie made me eat some soup, and Felicia made me take the Percocet the hospital had sent me home with, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I was slightly confused as to where I was at first. I slowly sat up in the bed, not wanting my stitches to tear or any more bleeding to occur. I rubbed my face with my hand, trying to wake up. I looked at the wall across from me and frowned. I could see an empty space there that was slightly discolored, brighter and cleaner than the surrounding area. After a moment, I could tell that it was the exact size and shape of a picture frame, and I suddenly remembered that a picture of me and Felicia hung there last time I'd visited. I got up, used the en suite, and made my way into the hallway. I noticed a few more empty spots on the walls and realized all the missing pictures had been ones of me, or me and Felicia. Fuck. Had Sookie done it? Somehow I didn't think so. This smelled of Claudine. But it also served to remind me just how badly I'd hurt Sookie. So badly that even my friends thought they had to erase me from her life.

I heard the clatter of pans in the kitchen and made my way there. I stood in the doorway watching Sookie as she deftly moved about preparing breakfast. She was wearing a t-shirt that hit her at about mid-thigh, and when she reached to grab something from an upper cabinet, the shirt rode up, showing me a pair of black boy shorts, trimmed in lace. Her perfect ass was peeking out the bottom of them, and my eyes followed the line down her beautiful legs. I groaned out loud as my dick sprang to attention. Sookie screamed and spun around, wielding the spatula like a weapon.

"Shit, Eric! You scared me," she shrieked.

"I'm sorry," I said as I approached her. "I'll wear a cowbell next time," I joked.

She smiled slightly, although I could still see a touch of fear in her eyes. Is she scared of me? "No, it's okay, Eric. I guess after everything with Bill, I'm still a bit skittish," she said before turning back to the stove and using the spatula to turn over what looked like French toast. She set it down, and I saw her grip the edge of the counter tightly.

"Sookie," I whispered as I approached her slowly. "Sookie, love, you're safe now," I continued as I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her to me so that her back was flush against my chest. I felt her shake with silent sobs as I held her close. "He'll never touch you again. I swear, Sookie." And he never would. I had plans for William Compton.

After a minute, she wiped her eyes and I felt her straighten up. "Thank you," she whispered. "Now, let me finish making breakfast." She turned to face me. "And you! You should be sitting down. I don't want a replay of yesterday, mister," she said, only partly playfully.

I raised my hand in surrender and sat down. "Where's Felicia?"

"She left last night, after she made sure you were okay and that I wasn't going to kill you," she said with a giggle. "She said she'd call later today and see if we needed her."

Within fifteen minutes I had a plate of French toast, bacon, and strawberries in front of me, and was drinking a perfect cup of coffee. It seemed like café au lait, but something was different. "C'est magnifique," I said gesturing to the coffee. "What is it?"

"I'm from Louisiana, chère," she reminded me. "Café au lait is part of our blood, but the special ingredient here is chicory. If you behave yourself, maybe I'll make you some beignets to go with it tomorrow." She said it all with a Cajun tinged accent that I'd never heard her use before, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't one of the sexiest things I'd ever heard.

"And what if I don't want to behave myself?" I asked flirtatiously, and immediately regretted it when I saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry, Sookie. That was inappropriate."

"No, Eric, it's fine, but we have a lot to talk about. We can't just pick up where we left off." Her cheeks flushed red, and I knew she was thinking about the library—the last time we had really been intimate in any way.

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "Whatever you want, Sookie. However you want to do this, I'm here." All semblance of self-preservation was gone. I would do whatever she wanted, however she wanted to, as long as I got her back.

She squeezed my hand in return and said, "Thank you, Eric," while gracing me with a beautiful smile. The first real smile I'd seen since we were at Adam and Thalia's house. Which reminded me . . . "Shit! I need to call Worthington. I'll need his and Niall's help covering my classes." She laughed at me lightly and said, "Go on to the living room. I'll clean up while you call him, and then I'll bring us out some more coffee and," she hesitated slightly, "and then we can talk, alright?"

I walked to my room, grabbed my phone from the pocket of the pants I'd worn the day before, and went into the living room. I stood by the huge wall of windows that overlooked the lake. The water was glassy, and the morning sunlight glinted off of it blindingly, causing me to squint. I flipped the phone open and dialed Adam's office number.

"Hi Adam," I began, still trying to figure out how he'd gone from Worthington to Adam. Before Sookie entered my life, he was only a co-worker, a colleague, someone to grab a drink with once a week, nothing more. Now, for the first time in years, I felt like I had a new friend. It only served to remind me further how small my world had become.

He interrupted my train of thought with his shouting. "Northman, you crazy son-of-a-bitch, what were you thinking?"

How could I explain it to him? I decided to put it in terms I thought he would unequivocally understand. "If it had been Thalia on the floor in front of him with a gun pointed at her, what would you have done?" I whispered, finally admitting to him how much I loved Sookie.

I heard his sharp intake of breath. "Damn."

"Yeah," I replied, because really, what else was there to say?

"Well, when you're feeling better, you and I are going to have a drink, and you're going to tell me everything. Sookie has already told us some of it, but I have a feeling I'll find your perspective very interesting," he said, and I knew his interest in the story wasn't prurient. He was asking as a man who himself was deeply in love and had much to lose.

We talked a bit longer, and he assured me that he could handle covering my classes for the next couple of weeks. I told him I would email him my notes and lesson plans later that day, and after telling him to give Thalia and Adam, Jr. my regards, I closed the phone. I leaned back against the sofa I'd sat on and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of the fall sun as it was magnified through the glass.

I smelled her before I even heard her footsteps. "There you are," I said without opening my eyes.

"How did you know?" she asked.

I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at her. She was holding out a cup of coffee for me. I smiled. "Thank you."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Your smell. Your scent. It was one of the first things I noticed about you," I told her honestly. "You made me crazy in class, smelling like that. Every time I even thought I caught a whiff of it when I was in Europe, I was off running. I smelled it at Westminster, right before I ran in to you." I paused, and I could feel my brow wrinkle slightly.

"What?" she asked.

"I thought I caught your scent in Venice one time, but . . ." I trailed off as I saw a look cross over her face.

"I was there," she whispered.

"What?"

"I thought I saw you in the crowd, and I chased after you but you were gone. It was just like in my dreams," she muttered.

"It had to have been you, then. It's too big a coincidence for it not to be," I said. "Wait a minute? Did you say you dreamt about me?"

She blushed. "Caught that, did you?"

I smiled and nodded.

"When I was in the hospital last year, I kept dreaming that you were there, but always running away from me. I would call after you, begging you to stop, to stop running, but you never did. I thought I opened my eyes once and saw you there, but you were running out the door. I figured it was just another dream." She paused. "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

I shook my head. "No. I was there."

"Why did you run away?" she asked.

So I told her. I told her how I'd heard her call out in her dream and beg me to stop. I told her how at the time, I believed she was begging me to leave her alone. Obviously, I was wrong.

"Is that why you paid my bill? Guilt?"

"What? No. Maybe. I don't know," I finally answered. "I have all this money, all these resources at my disposal, and I just . . . I just wanted to help you somehow. Maybe make up for ruining your life."

"You didn't ruin my life, Eric."

"I didn't know that at the time."

She wanted to know more, so I told her everything. I held nothing back. I told her how I would come visit her at night, when no one else was there. A couple of the nurses had been among those who helped care for my mother when she had been in the ICU, and they let me visit with Sookie and sit with her, and kept my secret.

"You know, someone mentioned that a man had been to see me. I assumed it was Bill. That's why I was going to still try and make it work with him, you know?"

I felt like kicking myself. If I hadn't been such a coward, if I hadn't run from her at every turn, she wouldn't have gotten back together with Bill, and I told her as much. "He wouldn't have hurt you on Thanksgiving," I whispered, dropping my eyes to my hands.

She leaned forward and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look her in the eyes. "Maybe. But then Bill wouldn't have brought me to Thanksgiving, and we wouldn't have wound up in Niall's wine cellar," she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

I stared at her for a moment, then I grabbed the back of her neck and said, "Come here, you amazing woman," before bringing my lips to hers. Her lips were soft, yielding, and warm, but before I could take it any further, she pulled back and resumed her seat on the couch. I looked over at her, seeing the pink flush in her cheeks and the heat in her eyes, and took a moment to shift in my seat and try to get comfortable—as comfortable as I could with a hard on. The things she did to me with something as innocent as a kiss or a look, made me feel like an undisciplined school boy who couldn't stop thinking with his dick.

Suddenly a dark look crossed her face.

"What is it, Sookie?"

"Was Thanksgiving the reason you went to Cambridge? Were you trying to get away from me?"

"No. Well, yes, but," I sighed, realizing that the conversation wasn't getting any easier. "Yes, I was getting away from you, but I accepted Cambridge that night in the hospital, when I thought you were having nightmares about me. I didn't run away because of Thanksgiving."

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Was Thanksgiving why you went to Italy?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"Yes, it was."

I have no doubt my face fell.

"I didn't know what else to do, Eric. I discovered that Bill was nothing like the man I thought he was, and you had retreated into yourself completely. And this opportunity just fell in my lap. I had to get away—from you, from Bill, from my life." Then she chuckled into her coffee cup. "Plus, it was freaking Italy, ya know?"

I laughed lightly as well.

We talked the entire morning, as Sookie continued to grill me on my actions and motivations in the prior year. It was freeing, and I realized that I was joyful for the first time in a very long time. I knew we still had to discuss some things, but I also knew that we were going to be okay, and that made me delirious with happiness. I was somewhat embarrassed when I had to tell her how I tried to forget her when I first got to Cambridge, but she took it in stride, apparently understanding my need to drown myself in nameless, faceless sex as a seeming antidote to her.

"How do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Take it in stride. How is it that you are so understanding about all this?" I knew I couldn't bear the thought of her being with Alcide during that time. Just the idea that she could have done what I did made me insane with jealousy. It wasn't fair, but it was just the way I felt.

"Eric, I may not have a lot of experience with men, but I learned at a very early age that sex and emotions are two completely different things. Sex without love, or at least a deep feeling for someone, is just that—a potentially pleasurable, but inevitably meaningless act."

I wanted to ask her exactly what she meant by "at a young age," but just then, my stomach growled. We laughed, and Sookie said she'd fix us something to eat.

"Let me help," I said.

She gave me a pointed look, eyed my shoulder up and down, and said, "And how exactly would you do that, gimp?"

"Did you just call me gimp?" I asked as I began to stand up.

Sookie quickly jumped up and ran behind the couch, her eyes bright, and her lip between her teeth. I wanted to bite that lip and tug it into my mouth.

"I guess I'll just have to show you what I can do with one hand," I said in a low voice.

Her eyes grew wide and pink began to stain her cheeks. Then she ran. I chuckled and followed her at a slower pace, knowing I couldn't run with my shoulder barely holding together. I found her in the kitchen, pulling out sandwich fixings from the refrigerator. She backed out and closed the door, squealing when she realized I was on the other side.

"Maybe the cowbell was a good idea," she muttered.

"Sookie," I growled.

She took a step back.

I took a step toward her.

She backed up again, hitting the counter, trapped.

I leaned in, running my nose along her neck, breathing her in, tracing the lines of her artery up to her ear, where I whispered, "You didn't even ask me what I…

[EDIT] SEE NOTE IN CHAPTER 2

…We have the rest of our lives for everything else."

"Who are you and what have you done with Eric Northman?" she asked teasingly, but a small part of me winced, because she was right. The man I was before was an asshole, and I was ashamed that we shared a name.

I pulled her to me, resting my forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry, Sookie. I'm so sorry I was such an ass, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

I heard her sharp intake of breath, and we pulled apart just enough to look into each other's eyes.

"What are you saying, Eric?"

Jesus, what was I saying? It wasn't like I had a grand plan, but at the same time, I knew I was never going to let her go. I needed Sookie like I needed air or water to survive. Without her, I would just be the same husk of a person I was before, and that was too painful to even contemplate.

I took a deep breath. "I meant what I said yesterday, Sookie. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, in whatever way you want. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I'm yours, body and soul."