Chapter 22

It had been a little over a week since they'd rescued her. Physically, she felt fine. And she was so glad that she was well enough that she didn't have to drink any more of her maker's blood. She would never have to taste it again.

Mentally and emotionally, she wasn't even close to okay. She was still reliving the torture sometimes, and rose screaming every night. She still felt guilt and shame over her maker's final death, especially whenever she felt happy or relieved that it had happened. And she hadn't seen Eric since that night. He'd never stayed away for long, even when she'd been terrified of him. It was tearing her apart inside.

At first, she'd been sure that he was going to show up any minute. And she'd really wanted him to, both because she wanted to thank him and because she wanted to see him. Mostly that. She'd told herself that it was because she enjoyed his company. It was true! But there was something else there. A longing. And a stray thought had kept bubbling up from the deepest darkest corner of her brain. If she wanted him, she could have him. There was no more maker to stand in her way.

After the first couple of days, though, she'd known that something was wrong. Pam was being evasive, giving vague answers to Sookie's questions and leaving the room every time she got a phone call. And, night after night, he just never showed up. She wondered if there was something that she'd done to make him angry at her, but she couldn't think of anything. Then again, she couldn't remember a lot about the night that they'd rescued her. She'd only been semi-conscious, if that, through most of it. And that was the last time she'd seen him.

Maybe he thought that she was too weak. Maybe he pitied her. Maybe he'd been disgusted by her. She'd thought that there was something between them — friendship, at least — but, for whatever reason, she guessed that whatever it was was gone. She didn't think that she could open herself up like that again. Not with anyone, but especially not him. She was just too broken. It was too much work and worry and hurt and disappointment for nothing but the ruin of what little self-esteem she'd had. And, goddammit, she was just so tired of hurting. Once she'd gotten a taste of what not hurting felt like, being hurt again felt so much worse. Both the torture and the heartache.

And part of her resented him for promising so many times that he would keep her safe from her maker. She knew that it wasn't fair. She'd known all along that her maker would take her from them. And Pam had promised her the same thing, and she wasn't angry at Pam. But he had promised, and her maker had taken her, and then Eric had just disappeared out of her life. It almost felt like a betrayal, although she knew that that wasn't fair, either.

Sookie lay down on the bed and curled herself up into a ball. It wasn't even close to dawn, but she just didn't really want to do anything else. Besides, she was used to it. She'd spent a whole lot of the past ten years lying down, because she'd been so weak most of the time and there had been nothing else to do. She still felt like she had a lot of healing to do, anyway.

Pam went downstairs and sighed. Sookie was hiding again. Pam was frustrated, but it was hard to blame her, considering. Pam knew whom she did blame, though. Their makers.

"Sookie, would you like me to bring you some blood?"

She shook her head. It was little more than a twitch. Pam clenched her teeth and went upstairs to call Eric. She stepped outside so Sookie wouldn't overhear.

He answered but didn't say anything. She could hear KDED and the hum of conversation in the background.

"Eric. Please. I need to see you."

"I'll be here all night. Feel free to join me."

"You know very well that I can't leave her."

He didn't answer. He hadn't said one word about her since the night after they'd ended her maker.

"What in the fuck is your problem, Eric? You led her on for weeks. You wouldn't leave her alone. And you pick now to move on? She is getting worse, not better. She has stopped feeding. She's having flashbacks. She doesn't even bother to ask me about you any longer. She was hurt badly enough by her maker. She doesn't need it from you, too."

He still didn't answer. She was afraid that he was going to hang up on her again. He did almost every time they talked now. A door closed, and the ambient noise decreased considerably. She heard his teeth grinding in her ear.

She sighed angrily. "Why don't you just fucking admit to yourself that you're in love with her and get it over with."

Nothing again for a long time. She opened her mouth to say something else, but he cut her off.

"Pamela, I command you not to speak to me of her again."

"You stupid son of a bitch."

He hung up the phone and threw it. It shattered against the wall, the corner leaving a hole in the plaster the size of a half dollar. He stormed out of his office and then out the employee entrance and took to the air.

Fucking Pam. He wanted to strangle her. She would not stop hounding him. Every single night she called, wanting to talk about her. Reminding him, both of how he'd failed her and how he felt. Not that he even knew. And not that he needed a reminder. He thought about little else.

He considered kicking them both out of his home. He considered finding some poor human and tearing him apart. He considered killing her himself. His life would be so much simpler. It might even be a mercy…

He flew faster. He considered going as high as he could go, straight up into the sky until he froze and started to fall. Just to see what would happen. If he failed to thaw before he hit the ground, would his body shatter? If not, would the impact be enough to end him? He remembered how self-destructive he'd been after Aude and his youngest child had died, before Ocella had taken him away from the rest of his family. He hated his brain for making the connection.

He realized that he was directly over the old farmhouse in Bon Temps. He landed in front of the porch and went inside. He walked into the room that had been her prison and torture chamber and abattoir. For years. Just being there a minute felt oppressive. And trying to shut off and deny his feelings was tearing him apart. He let them go.

He closed his eyes and roared. Back at the house, Pam almost fell to her knees. Sookie moaned, despite being in her almost rest. All of the guilt and shame and hurt and fear and sadness and anger turned into a white hot rage. He tore the old farmhouse apart, room by room. When he was done, it was nothing but a pile of rubble, and he felt hollow and spent, but less like a coiled spring.

He saw a chain poking out from under some old roofing. He threw the tin sheets out of the way and found the old porch swing. He didn't know why he did it, but he picked it up and flew it to his house. He set it down gently in the corner of the back yard and flew back to Pam's for the day.

Pam felt him outside, so she went out the patio doors to see. He was already gone, but she saw the porch swing from Sookie's house in the corner by the fence. She smiled a little. She didn't think that he'd worked it all out of his system yet, or else he wouldn't have disappeared before she could catch him, but she was glad that he'd done something, at least.

The next evening, he flew once again into his back yard. This time, he waited for Pam to come out.

"This is new. You usually wait out front."

He lifted one shoulder. Still broody, but to her he felt more calm than he had in a while.

"You opened the bond last night. I felt you. It was… Are you alright?"

He shrugged again, but then answered her. "I am sorry. I couldn't keep it closed. It was too much. But I think that maybe feeling it all helped."

Pam nodded at the swing. "You went to Bon Temps."

"I didn't know where I was going until I got there. I tore the place apart."

Pam nodded. "Good."

There was a long silence, but tonight there was no animosity. Pam stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist and put her head on his chest. He held her to him and sighed. "I don't think that I am ready to see her. But possibly soon. If she will agree to see me."

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow pointedly. He sighed. "Pam, you may speak openly. I rescind my command."

"Thank you. She was ready for you to move back home a week ago. I'm sure that she'll talk to you." At least she hoped. Eventually.

"I don't know if she'll want the swing, but I thought that she might." He could hang it for her, here in the back yard.

Pam pulled away and looked up at him again. He seemed so strange. He felt so strange.

He shrugged for the third time. "I guess that I have admitted it to myself, at least for tonight. But I must come to terms with what that means and decide what I'm going to do about it."

Both of them turned their heads towards the street when they heard a car engine stop out front. And then they heard a car door, and then another. They both frowned. Eric strode towards the patio door, but then hesitated. He shook his head a bit and then kept going. He walked through the house to the front door and swung it open. Pam saw him straighten himself and then nod deeply. "Your Majesty. Please, come in."