Since it looks like I'm going to be very busy this week, I'm posting this now. Enjoy.

I like this one. I hope you do too :)

Disclaimer: I'm just keeping their memory alive.

This chapter is unbetaed.

Previously:

I flinched instinctively trying to get away and then suddenly I felt something hitting my arm. I heard a loud bang and then I felt something wet on my arm and saw a dark stain growing on my sleeve.

At least I left the coat in the car, so it won't get ruined – I thought looking down at my once white and now dirty Merlotte's top.

And then there was blinding pain when I realized that the stain was blood and the thing hitting me had been a bullet biting into my flesh. I only had time to think what a shame it was that this bullet wouldn't push itself out of my wound like I had seen with the vamps before I fell to my knees.

I woke up with a sense of déjà vu. I was lying in a dark room and there was someone in bed with me, snuggled against my side.

"Eric?" I guessed, this time getting it right at the first try.

"Mmm-uhm."

In my groggy, half-aware state of mind I almost followed the script and uttered the next sentence of the familiar dialog, but I stopped myself at the last possible moment. Something was off. I had had this exact dream many times before, but the hellish pain in my arm had never been a part of it before.

"What are you doing here?" I asked nevertheless.

The answer differed from the dream-scenario as well:

"You're hurt. I came to check on you and find out what happened."

It was then that it all came back to me: I remembered that someone had shot me and a hazy memory of getting to the hospital a few hours ago and then talking to the doctor, Jason and Andy filtered through my brain. Everything seemed foggy and I realized that it was probably because I had been on painkillers, that were no longer working judging from how I felt.

"Sookie? Do you know who shot you?"

I sighed with resignation.

"No. I didn't see anyone."

"You dodged," Eric prompted. Someone had done his homework.

"I did. At the last second I… heard something, but not enough to identify whoever it was – just their focus on taking the shot."

I didn't have to explain to Eric what kind of hearing I meant.

"Then all we know for sure is that it wasn't a vampire," he concluded.

He was right. If it had been a vampire, I wouldn't have heard even that much.

Something didn't seem to add up about all of that, but my tired mind was too preoccupied with the pain to solve the puzzle. Suddenly I realized that unlike Andy Bellefleur, Eric was the authority figure I could share my doubts with.

"I'm not a were," I said making a clumsy attempt of putting my thoughts into words.

"No, you sure are not," Eric replied a little amused.

His fingers were playing with my hair. Someone had to take the band out when I had been put into the hospital bed.

"So, why me?' I tried to explain my train of thought. "All previous victims had been weres or shapeshifters. Something doesn't fit here."

Eric moved his face closer and burried his nose in my hair before inhaling deeply. I had to stop myself from giggling nervously.

"What were you doing before you got shot?" he asked enigmatically.

I wasn't sure why he ignored my last remark, but I decided to be patient for the time being.

"Nothing special. I did some unpacking in the apartment Sam had rented to me. I cooked. I stopped by Jason's on my way to the library."

"Did you hug him?"

"Ye-es."

Okey. Eric was getting at something.

"And Sam? Did you hug him too today?"

"I did."

He was definitely getting at something.

"You hug too many people."

Or not.

"Eric…"

"You smell of weres," he pointed out offhandedly.

"Um," I didn't know what more to say.

I had no intention of questioning Eric's expertise. I had to admit that everything seemed much more logical if he was right.

"What exactly did you hear?"

"Nothing specific."

"Sookie, it's important."

I tried to concentrate.

"I didn't really hear it, more like felt something," I clarified after a moment. "It was more about emotions than thoughts."

"What kind of emotions?"

I thought for a while.

"Determination. Anger – a lot of anger – and…" I paused and took a deep breath.

"And?" Eric prompted.

"Disgust," I whispered shocked, because it was only then I really understood what exactly made me jump away. "This person was disgusted with me."

Eric's fingers in my hair stopped and closed around the loose strands.

"What do you think it means?" I asked.

"I think the shooter is a were him- or herself," said Eric in a gloom voice.

I remembered our conversation at Fangtasia when I had come to ask him for help.

"Someone turned by a bite," I recalled his theory.

Someone who hated what they had become and the ones they imagined responsible.

"But not Jason," I added satisfied.

Not that I had ever doubted my brother, but this time it wasn't just me who believed he was not the one responsible for the attacks – he had a pretty good alibi. Not only was it highly unlikely for him to shoot me, but he had been dropping Crystal at Hotshot when the whole thing went down, so the were-panthers could see with their own eyes that there was simply no way for him and the sniper to be the same person – so at least there was a silver lining to that mess.

My wound was hurting more and more. I remembered the magic button next to my bed, but I would have get through Eric to reach it.

"Eric? Can you press that button? I need something to drink and painkillers."

He put his hand on my forehead. Maybe by contrast with my own overheated skin it felt wonderfully cool and I wanted to snuggle closer to him and use him as a compress.

"If you want, I could…" he trailed off but I knew what he was proposing anyway and for a moment I seriously considered his offer.

There were too many reasons not to take him on it, though: if this was about saving my life or preventing some permanent injury I wouldn't hesitate for a second, but I knew that I would heal on my own, it was just going to be slower and more painful. It had been only recently that I had stopped feeling the effects of taking the last dose of vampire blood and I didn't want to get used to that and become dependent on extra strength and sharper senses. Getting used to relying on the advantage that was only temporary could be dangerous, not to mention that I didn't like the thought of my body relaying on it as well.

I wasn't thrilled with the idea that it would give Eric even bigger insight into by emotional state than he already had, too. There was also a question of everybody knowing that I had been shot and my suddenly getting well would have been quite suspicious. So while the promise of instant relief and recovery was tempting I rejected it.

"No," I said with a slight regret after thinking for a while because that wound really sucked. "Thank you, but no."

I reached for him with my good hand hoping that he wouldn't take offence. It was true that I was rejecting his offer, but I did appreciate it and I knew that it wasn't something he took lightly.

Eric didn't make any further comment and just took the alternative route and called the nurse. He moved quickly to the chair and at first I thought that it was because I refused him, but then I realized that he probably just wanted to avoid having to argue with the stuff about him being in my bed. I felt the tiny bit of comfort leave with him. I hadn't even realized that his touch had been shielding me from the thoughts of the other patients until it was gone and the moment he left I felt overwhelmed by all the mind activity of sick people around me. Hospitals are not fun places to be for telepaths.

The nurse seemed much more interested in Eric than in my condition, which annoyed me a little, but at least I got what I asked for and she didn't have any excuse to stay any longer.

"Why did you come here yourself to question me?" I asked when her steps quieted after she finally left. "I thought you wanted Bill to handle the investigation?"

"Bill came here about an hour ago," Eric said honestly, "but I sent him away."

"Why?"

"Do you wish to see him?"

"That's not the point, Eric," I could feel that on the top of everything that conversation was threatening to give me a headache. "You can't just… What I mean is that it's not for you to decide who can and who can't visit me."

"Do you want him to come back?"

I closed my eyes exhausted. I was resting flat on my back.

"No," I admitted reluctantly. I had no strength left to deal with Bill. One vampire in my room was more than enough. "But it's no excuse for your behaviour."

I felt the mattress compress next to me. Eric returned to his previous place at my side as if nothing happened.

He touched the hollow near my clavicle with his fingertip and lazily trailed it from the base of my neck up to my ear. I almost sighed aloud when the mental noise instantly tuned down. He was moving his finger slowly back and forth, up and down, up and down, barely brushing my skin. It made me wonder if he was trying to hypnotize my with his light touch – or maybe he was just trying to rub the vampire scent on me for a change, or more specifically, his own?

I could smell it easily among the sharp hospital smells - expensive cologne with a hint of his own distinctive scent, male but clean and soothing in its familiarity.

"Why are you here?" I asked again. "I'm pretty sure that you had all the answers you could get after first ten seconds you were here."

My question was met with a long silence.

Up – and down. Up – and down. Up…

"Would you rather I went away?" he asked finally.

…and down.

I fell quiet for even longer.

"No," I whispered.

I didn't want him to leave me alone.

His finger stilled and rested for a short while at the end of its route, just below my ear, before Eric lifted it and moved it away. Seconds later a felt him pressing a light kiss to the exact same point he had been touching a moment ago.

"This doesn't answer my question," I added making an effort not to sound as if my whole being concentrated within the point he'd marked on my neck, so much that I even somehow managed to forget about the gunshot wound pulsing on my arm at the opposite side of my body.

"I'm here because you want me to stay with you."

Circular logic of that statement was too difficult to fully process or question in my current state. The pill was slowly starting to work and dulling my pain and Eric's presence, which usually seemed to suck all the air from the room, this time felt surprisingly simple and undemanding.

I gingerly turned to my side without opening my eyes and since Eric was on my right and my wound was on the left arm ('closer to the heart' – I thought strangely indifferently) I ended facing him. I let myself drift away into unconscious, enjoying the peaceful moment while it lasted.

Well? What do you think?

Next time: Tara.