So time for the next chapter, I know some of you have been waiting for this moment so I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Most characters belong to Charlaine Harris.

Chapter 54: Interview with a Telepath.

Dating Don't: Don't cling to a relationship that is not working, you either need to fight to fix it or let it go.

Eric and I were still stood in our respective rooms an hour later. Eric: staring out of the kitchen window, frozen like a painting showing forever a moment of contemplation; Me: my body sat tidily in the living room, my back straightened, my knees together, my head dipped; while my mind was a mess of the neatly packed away having been yanked out and tipped all over the floor.

I was so discombobulated that I struggled to pull enough of myself together to react when Oscar arrived. As usual he knocked twice then walked in without waiting for a response. I pushed myself up from the couch and tried to smile at him.

He was distracted and I knew he hadn't registered Eric's presence, he was too relaxed. He was in his police issue sweats, and had obviously used the station gym after work then come straight to mine.

"Do you mind if I use your shower? The ones at the gym were running cold, some sort of boiler problem," he said after kissing me hello. It was just a quick peck on the lips and he was keeping his body from mine in that way people do when they feel sweaty and gross.

I couldn't help but appreciate how good Oscar looked with his hair dishevelled and the warm afterglow of a good work-out. Not to mention how much I loved the sweet normality of his arrival; a kiss that promised more once he'd washed off his work-day, the implication that we'd sit and talk and share our news, then later we'd do the dishes together or agree to leave them and settle before the TV instead.

It wasn't how this evening would go but I was so grateful to Oscar for the many evenings like that he'd given me; for giving me one brief holiday in the world of 'normal' couples. He had also helped me fix the damage Bill had done. Though the magic had been broken with the severing, the habits were harder to break, but Oscar had been the perfect remedy for the after-effects of Bill-disease, all the parts of myself that Bill questioned, Oscar loved. Rather than plucking at these aspects of my personality like they were weeds and scowling when they re-grew, Oscar saw beauty in them and cultivated them into a healthy bloom. I'd be forever grateful for that.

But I'd known for days what was coming, what I'd have to do, and I knew I couldn't put it off any longer.

I was hoping Oscar would go into the bathroom remaining oblivious to Eric's presence, so I could shift the Viking before he started making trouble.

"Let me get you a towel." I started to lead Oscar through but Eric had other ideas. He wandered in from the kitchen, blocking our path, with a smile on his face.

"I can certainly recommend Sookie's shower," he said, flashing his teeth. "I remember feeling very satisfied after I was in there." There could be no doubt what he was implying.

Oscar's jaw went tight as he registered Eric's presence and words, but he said nothing. For all his teasing, Eric had always stopped short of anything overt and there was something aggressive in this change. I felt a flare of anger at him for sticking the knife in Oscar when he must know it was unnecessary. Surely he knew as well as I did, what my heart had decided.

"Eric, don't make me do it," I said sternly, flicking my eyes to the door. He smiled at me and strolled forward until he was right before me. Leaning down he kissed my cheek, there was a flash of feeling that while not entirely contrite was at least a little abashed. But then he ruined that by hovering his lips over the skin of my cheek and whispering:

"It won't work." He pulled back with a triumphant smile, winked at Oscar and sauntered out with extra bum-wiggle, strolling slowly, even by human standards.

I moved to get a towel out for Oscar, my thoughts whirling. Of course, why hadn't I realised? Eric had said, after the first sharing, that our tie would let him inside the wards while I was at the Hair of the Dog. Naturally it would do the same with all wards, especially now we'd shared again.

I flicked on the bathroom light and fan. On the plus side, no one could take me anywhere Eric couldn't follow; on the other hand, that included me. I could no longer rescind his invitation to my home, at least not while I was inside it. I'm not sure what would happen if I rescinded his invitation from the porch while he was inside.

As I turned to him towel in hand, I realised Oscar was still looking at the door through which Eric had exited. He looked unhappy and I shuffled uncomfortably at the edge of his vision. The silence lingered for a moment then I led the way to the bathroom handing him the towel and turning on the water before leaving.

It was only as I shut the door behind me, leaving Oscar inside, that I realised I'd taken him to the main bathroom rather than my en-suite. I knew that meant something, and I knew that what it meant wasn't good.

I made drinks and got out a walnut cake I'd made the day before. I put away the bits from the draining board and wiped down the counter. My heart beat painfully throughout. I could taste the sorrow in my throat and every time I swallowed it down it jabbed at my belly uncomfortably.

It took Oscar longer than usual to shower and come back out but I kept myself busy and my eyes dry.

He stood in the doorway to the kitchen looking at me. He'd put on jeans and a button-down that clung slightly to his damp skin. His hair had dripped onto his shoulders leaving little dark spots in the material. For a long time he just stood there watching as I pottered about the kitchen feeling very conscious of my body and the way the skirt of my dress swirled around my legs with every turn.

"I guess I knew that. About you and him," he said eventually, his voice was tight. "But I still wish I didn't know it, you know?" I glanced at him and nodded but couldn't hold his eye. I was ashamed of myself, and Eric. Not that we'd had sex, but of the way we'd treated Oscar.

"It was a long time ago," I said eventually, as if that would help. Oscar shrugged. There was another long silence during which I could neither turn away nor meet his eye.

"I made lemonade," I said eventually, indicating the table. There was a pause then he came forward and picked up an empty glass. He inspected it as if it held an answer but didn't sit.

"So more trouble?" He asked, keeping his gaze on the glass in his hand.

"Huh?"

"Well, you're not working tonight right? So why was he here?" Oscar was trying to keep the anger and accusation out of his voice.

"Oh, um ..."

"Something else you can't tell me about?" He was a little bitter and I couldn't blame him.

"It's not that I want to keep things from you, it's just ..." I took a deep breath trying to find the words but could come up with nothing better than: "Well it's complicated ... there is a lot of confidential stuff involved ... I mean there's loads of stuff about your job that you can't tell me, right?" I knew I sounded defensive and that I wasn't being fair to Oscar. I was keeping more from him that the details of my job and we both knew it.

I didn't need to hear his thoughts to know Oscar was thinking about leaving, it was all over his face. It wasn't about 'storming out', he wanted to step back before he said something unforgiveable. But we needed to do this and as much as it was going to hurt, dragging it out would only make it worse.

"Oscar come and sit down for a moment." I held my hand out to him. "Please?" He took it before we both sat. I looked at him. He was so beautiful, inside and out. I had been unfair to him and the result was pain for us both. Oscar had tried to be OK with me and Eric, he really had. It wasn't like he didn't have his own baggage, but his baggage wasn't smirking in my face on a regular basis.

I ran my thumb over the scar on the back of his hand, it was a burn and it had happened while he was a Marine but he'd never told me the story. On top of Eric himself, Oscar hated the whole Fangtasia side of my life. Not because of any problems with fang-bangers or vampires in general, but because he suspected I was someone different when I was there; that there was this whole part of myself I was keeping from him.

Of course he was right, but I also knew that, whatever he was trying to tell himself, if I revealed the truth to him he wouldn't handle it. He'd try to, he'd want to, but he wouldn't. Eventually, the knowledge that I could hear his thoughts, whether I actually did or not, would eat away at him, would make him paranoid and then resentful. I couldn't do that to him.

He was looking at me with a braced expression, his eyes were soft and understanding but his jaw was tight.

"Eric and I haven't been more than friends since … well, most of the time I've known him actually. There was a … brief fling, but he was different then and I guess I was too in many ways." Oscar was almost as still as a vampire and didn't speak.

"But I did kiss him, I'm sorry." Oscar's eyebrows asked the question. "It's not what you think. It was only a kiss and I stopped ..." Stopped when? When I remembered him? Before I went as far as I wanted? When I felt guilty? My heart fell as I realised how awful my behaviour had been, I was thoroughly ashamed of myself. It was time to 'fess up.

"There is an attraction, I admit." Oscar's face held a look of 'no shit Sherlock'. "But we both accepted a long time ago it would never work." Oscar was curious about the reasons but I hadn't told him anything he hadn't already known – or suspected at least.

Still this was not the crux of the issue and we both knew it. "But that: him, it's not the full story is it?"

"No, it's not the full story." Oscar and I had a bigger obstacle to happiness than the six-foot-odd Viking vampire.

The night chorus rose to a crescendo over the silence that stretched between us. I felt a lump growing in my throat and felt his grasp on my hand tighten. We both knew where this conversation was going and that it was going to hurt. A lot.

I had an image in my head of how we looked in that moment from the outside; sitting at my kitchen table, him still damp from the shower, cake and lemonade on the table, our hands clutching each other. I couldn't help but think of the dreams I'd had when I was younger, of the man I would find who would understand me, who would hold me and love me. We would get married and fix up the house and have children. We would be normal and happy.

Oscar was exactly the sort of man that I had envisioned in those fantasies. He was beautiful and kind and gentle yet strong. I was saying goodbye to more than just the man before me, I was saying goodbye to a life-long dream.

I had new dreams now, even if they were just as unlikely as the old ones, but that didn't mean it was easy watching the old ones snuff out like a candle stub, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke and the smell of nostalgia. I was struggling to draw in the breath needed to puff it out when Oscar spoke first.

"Do you think I can't handle it? That I wouldn't like you if ...? I'm trying to understand this Sookie but ..." There was almost an edge of panic in Oscar; he knew what I knew, in terms of 'us', but he hadn't accepted it yet.

"Oscar, it's not you ..." He gave me a look and I curbed the cliché no matter how true it was. I tried a different tack. "When the vampires came out, didn't you ever wonder what else there might be?"

He slammed the brakes on whatever direction his thoughts had been going and looked at me surprised.

"No, I guess I didn't, it's obvious when you think about it though." He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. When he looked back at me his eyes were apologetic. He realised he had known, underneath, that I was different, and he was worried he'd been insensitive by not being more aware of it.

"So you ... ?"

"I'm a little different, not much, not like a vampire, but different." He nodded.

"And they ..." he waved his hand in the air to indicate Eric and Pam. "They know about this?" He was sad at the thought I hadn't trusted him enough to tell him.

"That's part of why Eric was over here tonight, he just found out some stuff about me." I wanted him to understand it hadn't just been him I was keeping things from.

He reached over and placed his free hand over our joined ones. For a long while he just stroked my fingers and sat in silence. Yes, Oscar was the guy I'd spent most of my life dreaming about, he was everything I had thought, ever since I was a child, that I wanted, but I didn't love him.

I loved the guy that drove me crazy, the guy I couldn't have kids or even lunch with. I loved the guy that came with more problems than I could count not least of which was that he was going to live forever without aging and I wasn't. I loved the guy it was entirely possible I could never have. Ain't that just the way of love though?

"I wish ..." Oscar said eventually, he looked so sad. "I wish I were different," he was trying to make sense of where we'd got to, but there was no sense in it, the heart has no common sense at all in my experience. "I wish I could be …" He didn't know what I needed but he knew whatever it was he couldn't give it to me. I could feel my heart breaking, could feel the pain of a sucking wound, deep in my chest, it made breathing harder, the moving air seeming to scrape at my throat.

I loved Oscar, he was almost perfect, but I didn't love him the way I should and that just wasn't fair, he deserved better.

"Oscar, I don't think I've ever known a better man." I lifted his chin with my free hand to make him meet my eye. "Don't ever wish to be different, always be yourself." The tears were so close to the surface I wasn't sure I could hold them back much longer, so I tried to lighten things, just a little, so I wouldn't embarrass myself. "I mostly wish I wasn't different."

But accepting my difference, making the most of it rather than always being focused on the negative, accepting all the things it had brought into my life that I might have missed otherwise, these were things Oscar had helped me with.

Others had helped too, Eric and Pam especially, but Oscar, and the way he approached life, even without knowing about me, had made me see myself differently. "You have made me so happy, have taught me things about myself that will make all my life to come better." I told him. Despite my efforts, the tears broke through my barriers, tumbling over my lashes and rolling down my cheeks. I sniffed and freed my hands to search my pockets for a tissue.

I looked up when Oscar gave a small forced cough to see him holding out a handkerchief which I accepted gratefully. It was one of the ones I'd bought him for his birthday, I'd sewn in the monograms myself. Allowing me a moment to gather myself, Oscar focused on pouring us both some lemonade and cutting himself a slice of cake. My baking wasn't his favourite thing about me but it was near the top of the list.

"I'm so sorry Oscar," I said, setting myself off again, just as I thought I'd got myself under control.

"Shhh," he said leaning over to wrap has arms around me. I fell into his embrace gratefully and sobbed into his chest while he stroked my hair. Feeling the pain of it, I thought it might have been easier if he'd done something I could hate him for, if I could yell at him and throw things. But he was the same good man he'd always been, offering me care and support even when I needed it to turn him away.

We both knew it was time. It was the same for him as for me, he wanted to love me, felt he should, but just didn't, or not in the right way.

"Sookie, don't feel so bad, we were both in the same place, unable to be with the person we truly wanted to be with and not wanting to be alone either – it was kinda perfect really." I nodded, unable to speak. It was true, I knew that his mind was often on his ex, at first anyway, for him it had lessened as time went on, for me, the opposite. "I think we both know that if we keep going, sooner or later one of us will hurt the other far worse that this feels right now and I don't want for that to happen any more than you do," he added.

There was part of him that wanted to fight for us and part of me that wanted him to, if my heart had not settled on Eric, perhaps, had I even just met Oscar first, I could have fallen for him, but we weren't losing the battle for us, it was already lost, this was just the process of agreeing to raise the surrender flag.

There was part of him that was wondering what he should have done differently, with his ex as well as with me. Had he let her down? Had he been too hung up on her to be what I needed to move on from my past?

"You will be the perfect husband," I said meaning every syllable. I had my hand on his knee and he put his on top of mine. We both knew it was time. "… for the right woman."

"But she's not you," he added sadly. Now we were there Oscar wasn't going to beat around the bush any more. We both knew it was true no matter what we'd been telling ourselves all these months.

"No, she's not me." I felt the lump in my throat swell again. Part of me wished it was me, and part of him did too, but that didn't change anything. "Oscar please don't ever think this was your fault. I haven't been fair to you, if I had been more honest with myself about …" the words got stuck behind the large lump in my throat.

"Shhh," he soothed. "The postcards come less often now, but I still get a flutter every time one shows up." I looked at him, questioning with my eyes. "It's not just your head and heart that have been at odds." He shrugged. We both knew I'd behaved worse than him but he was sharing the blame anyway and I wished with all my heart that he would find the woman who would make him happy.

"So, what about him?" It seemed instinctively he knew, splitting from him wouldn't make any difference in regards to the obstacles between me and Eric. As hard as this was, Oscar did want me to be happy. Another tear rolled down my cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb.

My heart might not break for us but it fractured painfully with the knowledge of how perfectly it could work out if things were different, if we were not so different. I shook my head.

"It's complicated." That sounded too cliché but I couldn't think of any way to explain it all.

"What will you do?" It was a question I was going to have to ask myself at some point. I looked at Oscar. I'd always thought I couldn't have normal, Oscar had shown me I could and I would always be grateful for that, for the knowledge that I wasn't attracted to Eric by default, just because a normal life was closed to me.

Even now as we did what we were doing (I couldn't say breaking up, even in my mind, not until much later) I knew I could talk to him, albeit in code for his safety.

He was still waiting for me to consider my options. I couldn't believe he was willing to listen to me on this, considering we were talking about what I would do without him as a buffer between me and my feelings for my boss. He really was the greatest guy I knew.

"I dunno. A relative of mine, a distant one, well he's literally distant, he lives a long way away and he wants me to go live with him, start a new life." It was the first time I had seriously considered Niall's offer. When he'd made it, I'd dismissed it out of hat.

"Like abroad?" Oscar asked. I nodded. It was like abroad I guessed. "Will you go?"

"I don't want to, but maybe, maybe I should consider it at least. I mean a fresh start can be really good right?" Could I do it? Could I move to some other world full of fairies?

One of the things that makes a good cop is knowing how to read people, and Oscar was very good at his job. Even with me, a person who has spent her life hiding her reactions, who can fool even a vampire into not being sure of her responses, he just knows.

He knows when to ask if I am OK, when to leave it be, and now he knew I couldn't talk about this further with him, that I was about to overload. I wasn't sure what would happen if I blasted Oscar with my emotions but whether from concern for me or an innate sense of self-preservation, Oscar knew to lighten the mood before I broke down.

"You know at this rate I'm going to end up with a complex. The women in my life always seem to end up running off across the world." He frowned exaggeratedly.

"It's not you, you're the thing we go in spite of, not because of," I assured him. I sniffled some more and wiped my eyes and nose.

"I should go," he said standing. "I need to get back to my place and pack, I've got the weekend off." He was trying to sound normal but his voice was strained, and I shared his need to end this painful scene. I stood too, ready to see him out. "I think I might go home, see the folks." I nodded and hid my frown. I'd never met his parents. "You know, my Mom, she'd love you, too much I think, she'd never forgive me for walking away." Then I understood; this was what had kept him from taking me home. He hadn't introduced me to his family because deep down he'd known it wasn't going to last, just as I had.

"Thank you." I'd always wondered why he'd never taken me to see them. I felt the pain wash over me again. "I'm sorry Oscar, but ..." I needed him to leave, with how much this hurt, I couldn't drag it out any more. Saying good bye to him was just too hard. He nodded, understanding what I couldn't say.

Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me, his lips soft against mine. There was a world of love and loss in that kiss, acceptance and sorrow mixed. It was a goodbye kiss but one full of regret for the goodbye. There were tears in his eyes as well as mine when he pulled away.

He left without another word, it was too hard for him as well.

[~~~]

It was much later: After I'd cried to myself for hours; After I'd eventually fallen asleep; After I'd been dreaming, that I woke up with the realisation.

I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling as the drums of war started to beat in my blood. My sheets were tangled around my legs where I'd been tossing and turning but I was completely still now. The susurration filtered down from the ceiling fan overhead as I stared at it, my eyes having sprung open with the realisation that woke me from my troubled sleep.

The drums and the fan combined, swish boom-boom, swish boom-boom, swish boom-boom, building to an inevitability as the blurred knowledge sharpened into focus. I had only one thought: Get to Eric.

After a brief battle with the sheet, I jumped out of bed and yanked on some crumpled jeans. Erik paced the covers occasionally giving an approbatory meow. Leaping off the bed, he followed me as I stormed towards the front door, swiping my keys from the table as I passed. I made sure he was still securely inside before I headed off. He nosed the curtain aside and his face peered through the window at me as I reversed my car to turn around, his little mouth working the meows I could no longer hear.

I drove much faster than I was comfortable with down the dark roads but there was no room for fear amongst all the rage pumping through me. I wasn't even sure exactly where I planned to head beyond Shreveport. I was hoping, if he could find me, I could find him.

The bend just past Old Man's Creek seemed to have sharpened since I last drove it and the back end of my car started to slip out from under me as I rounded it. (I'd never taken it at this speed.) As I fought with the steering wheel to regain control, a hand reached in the open window and at the same time I heard a thump on the roof. I screamed and slammed on the breaks, locking the tires and making the car skid loudly.

As the car squealed to a halt, I watched with satisfaction as Eric was thrown forward off the roof but he caught himself mid-flight and hovered for a moment before lowering himself to the ground. Standing with his back to me, a light breeze tousled his dishevelled hair and he straightened his clothes in the shimmering halo of my headlights before his head twisted back towards me, pulling his body round behind it, the devilish grin so prominent there was something of the Cheshire cat about it. I jumped from the driver's seat and stormed towards him.

"You really shouldn't drive that fast at night Sookie, your eyesight isn't ..." and that was as far as he got before I reached him and struck out with the bit of dead-fall I'd grabbed from the side of the road, whacking him repeatedly over the arm he'd brought up to defend himself.

"You bastard! You evil [thwack] fucking [thwack] bastard [thwack]!"

"Sookie, calm down," he said trying to dodge the deluge, or at least give the impression of doing so. (It's not like he couldn't get away from me if he actually wanted to.) "I didn't mean to startle you. I was trying to get control of the car before you crashed." I just continued to hit him though my arms were starting to tire from the effort. He moved back a bit, though stayed within the illumination of the headlights, I followed, still hitting him.

Eventually he got fed up and put his arm down to give me a firm look. I smacked him hard across the shoulder with my stick and it broke. As I let out a strangled roar of rage, Eric just looked amused.

"Don't you dare!" I pointed a finger at him which he eyed with the same fake fear as he had the stick. I was beyond furious. "Don't you dare laugh at me or it won't be the side of the stick I'll be aiming with," I threatened.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why don't you tell me what has upset you," he said with maddening calm. "I felt your turmoil, I came to help. Did something happen with your human?" He stepped towards me with a consoling hand out.

"Do NOT touch me you evil, scheming, lying, foul, manipulative ..." There was a long pause as I tried to come up with words bad enough. Anger throbbed in my head making it hard to think. "… Lying …"

"You already said lying," he pointed out helpfully with a smirk. Unamused I picked up a sharp piece of the broken stick and as he eyed it a touch of genuine wariness crept into his eyes.

"How long huh? Just tell me that. Have you known all along? Was it all just some big game to you? Did you have a good ol' laugh over it?" The laughter left Eric's face as he realised I was getting angrier not calmer, and that it wasn't his 'action-film-launch' onto my car that I was yelling about. The only part of that I was mad about was that he'd managed to catch himself before hitting the road. He eyed my face carefully, I could feel him searching our blood and I hated it.

"Sookie what ..."

"HOW FUCKING LONG ERIC?" After a long moment, realisation came into his face. We stood there staring at each other, my heaving breaths filling the air.

I didn't care that I was in my sleep-creased sleep-shirt that tumbled down to the knees of my jeans. I didn't care that the hair bobble I'd tucked my hair into before bed was now closer to the ends of my hair than the nape of my neck and that above it a scarecrow of tangles jutted out every-which-way. I didn't care that there was still sleep in my eyelashes or that my feet were bare on the dirt road. I cared only what Eric said next.

In the silence while he processed, I knew we were both reliving that moment earlier when he'd made the slip. I'd been so distracted by the kiss and by Oscar and by everything else, it hadn't registered at the time. But it had seeped through my skin and slowly worked its way inwards until it had entered my realisation and shaken me from my dreams.

An echo of those words rang in my inner ear as the silence stretched on. I can certainly recommend Sookie's shower, I REMEMBER feeling very satisfied after I was in there. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest as I waited for his explanation.

I was hoping against hope even though there was nothing to hope for. Pandora's box was open and not even Eric could keep hope inside, yet still I hoped. I saw him take a breath, saw the calculation in his eyes as he decided how best to explain himself, my heart chipped more and more of itself away with every painful crash against my ribs. Here came the puppy eyes. I hardened my heart against them.

"It was not a game Sookie. I never intended to hurt you." His voice was soft and sad. He reached out, flicking the make-shift stake from my fist, and placing his hand on my shoulder. He wanted me to feel his sincerity but I ignored it and pulled away from him, terrified of what else I might feel.

"No, you just lied to me and manipulated me. Why would that be painful? You still haven't answered my question. How long have you remembered? That is assuming you ever truly forgot." He looked hurt at the suggestion. I pushed away any sense of his feelings, I didn't want to feel sorry for him.

"It was after you were ill," he finally admitted. "After Sophie-Anne told you about Bill and you got sick. When you woke up I was so relieved and we ..."

"We kissed," I said remembering the moment vividly. I was only vaguely aware he was nodding as, instead of seeing him before me, my mind was replaying another Eric scene.

I started to back away from him, shaking my head in horror. I spoke more to myself than him. "And then you pulled away from me, you were disgusted." I'd thought up a million different scenarios, reactions Eric might have to regaining his memories of being with me, but the look on his face that night was not close to any one of them. That sweet creature that loved me and everything we were to each other was something that repulsed Eric, how did I miss that?

"No!" He said categorically, reaching out to me again. "I was not disgusted, I was ..." The daggers from my eyes cut through his words.

"I have been lied to enough Eric. I know what I saw." I found myself reliving the moment again: Eric peeling me off of him, moving me back into the pillows of my bed, glaring with ancient haunted eyes, fleeing into the night without a word.

"My God, that look on your face." It had stayed with me ever since. "I thought it was because I kissed you." I let out a bitter laugh. "Well I guess it was." Nonsensically, I turned my back, as if I could hide my emotions from him. I was furious and devastated. Tears threatened but I threatened them back until they retreated.

The emotional pressure inside me began to build and the world started to spin too fast. I crouched down, pressing my hands against my head trying to force it to slow down. I knew I could have blasted Eric with my feelings, the way I did with Claudine that made her wince, and part of me wanted to.

But another part didn't want him to feel anything from me at all, certainly not the part that hurt. Not that I could keep it from him.

The solution was clear and I tried to harden myself to the necessity of it. It looked like I was in for another painful severing. I wondered if I'd do it instinctively like before or if I'd have to be more deliberate this time, now I knew about it.

"Lover?" Eric said softly, moving towards me. I turned my head to glare at him and he stopped moving.

"You don't get to call me that. You can never call me that. I am not your lover." I could see the wince in his eyes but I refused to let myself feel it, dropping my head back into my palms. He swallowed and tried again to speak softly to me.

"I was taken by surprise that was all." His voice was a distant murmur as I fisted my hands trying to stay in control of myself. "You and Pam had tried to tell me what I was like, but remembering, and all at once like that, it was a lot to take in." I barely listened to him. If he'd been lying all this time and I hadn't known, why would it be different now?

I focused on my anger, it was the one emotion I had a handle on right now, and I was certain was all mine.

"That doesn't give you the right to lie to me."

"I did not lie," he insisted. I suspected he actually believed he was telling the truth which set me off again.

I grabbed another bit of wood from the ground and pushed myself to my feet. As I turned to face him fully and levelled my sights at him, Eric stepped back. This stick was an old bit of fencing and was sturdier than the branch, it made a satisfying thunk when it hit him. Once again he used his hands and arms to protect his head and heart but didn't stop me.

"You know, it works better when you try to push it through the vampire," Pam commented helpfully from somewhere to my left. Eric turned to look at her in irritation. Between his distraction and the fact I hadn't expected him to stop ducking, my next blow swiped him across the face drawing blood. I stopped hitting him and dropped the wood. I'd never thought I could actually hurt him!

The scratch down his cheek wasn't deep and healed almost immediately but it left a streak of blood. I hated the concern I felt at the sight. From his expression, Eric was more worried about me than his face. I swallowed down my worry and filled my heart with ice.

"You lied to me when you didn't tell me," my voice was calm, even, and cold. I turned to look at Pam, she was leaning casually against a trunk at the edge of the tree-line. When I turned my daggers on her, her face went taut. She must have known, yet she'd never said a word.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out, she tried again, failed again and then shrugged. I realised what she was saying. I also realised it must have been the same with the blood sharing, she'd been uncharacteristically silent on that matter too. I turned disapproving eyes back on Eric.

"Of course," I said.

I headed back to my car. I had to reverse to a wider bit of road to turn around, well either that or run Eric over to go forward and I wasn't sure my car would win that one, even though a part of me was tempted to try. He stayed stationary in the middle of the road the whole time the headlights faced that direction. And even after I turned, his dark silhouette and soft glow remained stationary in my rear view mirror as I set off back to Bon Temps.

[***]

My throat felt thick with the taste of tears. All the way home all I could think of were the many moments when my heart had wrenched as something sparked a memory and I wanted to look to Eric, to share the moment, but knew he didn't remember and I couldn't. But he had remembered, and I'd been a fool. Every time that wound of losing him had reopened, and the vinegar in the wound that he had no memory of any of it had stung me, yet he had remembered, he'd remembered and not told me, he'd remembered and hated what he'd seen – it was physically painful this heart ache.

When the security lights at my house came on, lighting up my car, I could see blood smears on the steering wheel. I looked at my hands. The dark shadows of several nasty splinters showed through my skin and started hurting as soon as I noticed them. Calling Eric a few more choice words I clambered out of my car and headed inside.

I phoned for back-up first, then fetched the first-aid kit. I was still failing to remove the splinters when Sam arrived.

He had a light jacket thrown on and a pair of jeans hanging from his hand. Under the jacket he wore nothing but some jockey shorts. He'd clearly just slipped his feet into to his Timberland boots too as the laces trailed behind him and he wasn't wearing socks.

"This is your 'emergency'?" He looked disgruntled, but then again, I had just woken him in the middle of the night.

"Of course not," I snapped. My initial anger had me too worked up to get the splinters out and then the frustration of not being able to remove them had only exacerbated the situation. I bit back any further comment until after I took a breath to calm myself. It wasn't Sam I was mad at.

"Sorry Sam," I said sincerely. "I thought this would be sorted by the time you got here." I indicated my hands which were smeared with blood as well as still having several dark shards of wood buried in them. "I do need a favour though."

After a big sigh, Sam sat next to me, gave me a look of excessive patience being employed, and grabbed my hand, twisting it to the light for a better look. "What sort of favour?" He asked as he picked up the tweezers and the scrunched up piece of toilet paper I'd been using to wipe the blood away.

As he set to work I tried to explain. "I need you to keep an eye on me." I winced when he poked at my hand and he held it more firmly after a look that said 'stop being a wimp'.

"Keep an eye on you?" He asked, his tone confused coloured with concern.

"Well I've only done this once before and I got pretty ill that time. You might have to call Dr Ludwig, but I don't want to bother her unless it's necessary, which it might not be this time." Sam paused in his extractions and gave me a look that spoke as clearly as the words he followed it with.

"Sookie what are you talking about?"

"Just, will you stay with me tonight? And call the Dr if I get sick?"

"Of course, but ..." I held my free hand up to him and he looked at it with a tshk. Swapping the hand he'd been working on for the other he started on the second palm of splinters as I examined the first and saw that it was now splinter free. I smiled my thanks quickly before getting on with what I had to do.

"Now don't interrupt me, I don't know how this works exactly and I need to focus," I told him.

[***]

Several hours later Sam was dog tired and I was frustrated. I'd tried everything I could think of, including positioning myself in bed exactly as I'd been last time, but no severing was taking place.

For the last hour I'd been pacing my living room and going through everything I knew about the process while Sam nodded off on the couch jerking awake each time a vehement exclamation escaped me. I decided there was only one thing it could be.

"OK, plan B," I said to Sam. By this point he knew what I had found out. I'd tried laying it all out for him as a way to rile up my anger, trying to jump start the process.

"What's plan B?" He yawned, looking at his watch. I didn't know what time it was but the sun had risen some time ago and the relief of knowing Eric was down for the day had diluted my anger considerably but I was still determined.

"I need you to call Loki for me." Sam looked genuinely shocked with a side order of disgusted. Then he shook his head.

"I get that you want to get back at Eric, Sookie, but I don't think that's the best way to go about it, what if it worked?" I must have looked as puzzled as I felt because after a pause Sam explained his question. "I know what he proposed, he told me. I won't let you do something like that out of anger."

I still had to think for a minute before the penny dropped.

"EW! Samuel Lucus Merlotte just what do you think of me! I don't want you to call him so I can have his babies, I just need some of his mojo so I can get rid of the 'Eric' in my blood," I said calling up my own order of disgust à la shock.

"Oh," Sam blushed. "Well, he's already had you sitting on him naked so what was I supposed to think?" He defended his assumption. But he was teasing now and I batted him with a cushion as we both relieved the tension with a little laughter.

The laughter died to silence and I looked at him, waiting, while he yawned and stretched.

I waited.

He ruffled his hair.

I could hear my clock ticking.

He scratched his neck.

I cleared my throat.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"I'm still not calling him," Sam finally said with a stubborn expression.

"Why not?" I almost whined. I knew I'd been running on anger, and I knew I was almost out. Then I'd have to look at it all more reasonably and I wasn't certain I'd come off as innocent as I wanted to believe.

At the very least I'd thrown Eric from the roof of my car then attacked him with what was really a large stake for not telling me about something I'd not told him about in the first place. OK I hadn't been going for the heart but still ... which was why I needed the severing. Without Eric being able to feel me, I could just process privately, cut him off and be done with it. I mean, at least he'd known I was keeping secrets, who knew what else he was keeping from me.

Anger reserves bolstered I glared at Sam waiting for an explanation. He sighed and rubbed the stubble on his face tiredly

"Well firstly, Loki will still try to get you to sleep with him and if he whacks you with his 'mojo,' as you call it, you might just agree, angry as you are." I was startled by this idea but it sadly was not so far-fetched. Loki's mischief whammy had already made me kiss Pam when I wasn't nearly as pissed off as I was now.

My anger notched back down. I was grateful Sam was with me. Looking encouraged by my reaction, Sam pressed on. "And secondly, I suspect that if you could, 'get the Eric out of your blood,' if it was really what you wanted, you'd be able to." I glared at my friend but he stood firm. "Loki already bestowed his energy on you." Mentally I pouted but I kept my actual lip tucked in.

"Then why isn't it working?" I said frustrated.

I turned from Sam before he could throw more logic and me and focused on my approach. What was I forgetting to do? The only time I'd done a severing the past I hadn't known I could, my body had just reacted to what I needed.

"You know why," Sam said softly. The trouble was, I did. I let out a strangled cry of frustration and finally released the tears which flooded out and down my face. When I turned back from getting a tissue a beautiful collie was standing before me, his eyes understanding.

"Dean!" I was so ridiculously happy to see him. I dropped to a crouch and threw my arms around him. He rested his chin on my shoulder as I sobbed into his fur. There was something about my favourite dog that was just soothing no matter what. After letting him lick my ear, I stood and patted my leg for him to follow then led him through to the bedroom. He jumped onto the bed with a look that even on his doggy face I knew was extremely grateful at the prospect of sleep at last. Erik, who had been asleep on my pillow, lifted his head and glared at the intruder.

He had been disgruntled enough by Sam's presence (though not quite as violent as he tended to be to Eric) making enough fuss that I'd shut him in the bedroom so I could focus on what I was trying to do. He was even less impressed by this turn of events. He paced across the pillows like a guard on duty, glaring at Dean as if daring him to come any closer.

"Be nice!" I ordered the cat before heading in the bathroom to get ready for bed. I was so grateful that my friend understood me well enough to be Dean for me. I knew it wasn't easy, even for him, when the moon wasn't full.

Sam had been as helpful as he could, but his rational thinking was not what I needed to hear when I wanted to be angry and upset. I understood that he thought I wasn't able to perform the severing because deep down I didn't want to. And I hated that he was right. I was angry, sure, but unlike with Bill it wasn't Eric's blood that had hurt me, it was his words, or lack of them.

Earlier I'd stopped to wash the few dishes by the sink, scrubbing with enough fury to almost take the pattern off, ranting the whole while. "Why does he keep doing this? Why can't he just tell me what he's up to? How can one person be so underhand and high-handed at the same time, you wouldn't think even his arms are long enough. He's so infuriating."

I was stacking up justifications in my head. He'd tricked me into drinking his blood the first time, not explained to me about the sharing or the contract, he'd kept quiet about getting his memories back.

It had surprised me when Sam had grabbed the plate from my hand before I could slam it on the draining board. I'd forgotten he was there. I was even more surprised when he answered my questions, I certainly hadn't expected him to have any insight into the Viking.

"Sookie, in his world," I gave him a look, "among vampires," he clarified, "telling your secrets to another means two things and two things only, and it means those two things every time."

"O … K?" I said trying to get my head around that.

"It means trusting them and it means putting them at risk on your behalf."

I frowned. "Always?"

"Yes. You are trusting them not to give you away, deliberately or accidentally, and even if they live up to that trust it doesn't mean others won't try to take the knowledge from them."

I'd felt myself softening but refused to accept the 'it's for your own good' defence. It had been overused. "Even if that's true, I'm not a vampire, and Eric knows he can trust me."

"That may be so, but then, even though Eric isn't a human, and you don't have to listen to his thoughts, you still like to be alone to think things through when you're stressed, as you always have."

"What's that got to do with anything? It's not about pushing people away, it's just instinctive," I'd defended. From a lifetime of needing to separate myself from people to think clearly, I automatically felt the need to be alone when I needed to think.

"Of course it is, but you've only had 20-odd years to develop your habits, he's had centuries."

"So you're on his side now?" I'd accused running out of arguments.

"No, I am most definitely on your side, and when you are not so angry you will see that." Sam was more patient that most people I knew, supes especially, but he had his limits and he'd reached them. "I'm not saying he wasn't wrong Sookie, I'm saying he has his faults just like you have yours. You both make mistakes, it doesn't make you bad people."

Climbing into bed and tucking Erik the opposite side of me, I stroked Dean's fur, glad to have the simple comfort of his animal form rather than the human version that made me rationalise my emotions. Men never did seem to understand that sometimes you need to vent before you fix things.

Dean rested his chin on my stomach and I stroked his soft head. It wasn't long before I slept, warm under his weight.

[-]

I know, I know, but they can't get to any kind of HEA without getting all this stuff out of the way first.