A/N: So WOW. Two things, over 140 reviews? Eepers! And over 110 followers? Scary! I've never had a response this large or an audience so big this early on in a story. I love it, but it's overwhelming. Should I be this honest? Maybe, maybe not. But I am grateful, more than words could express, so there's that. You. Guys. Rock.

Thanks to Mrskroy, rachel olsen-williams, and every single reader. Chapter name is an apropos song title and its artist.

oXOxoXOxo From Chapter 5 oXOxoXOxo

… Eric was alone, bloody tears streaming down his face in tracks. He clutched at his head, still screaming as if he was being attacked by an invisible force. As I gazed upon him, I sobered instantly.

'What is happening?' I thought, my face betraying my confusion.

"Addy..." He sputtered out through gritted teeth, trying to bite back his pain, "She... is... in... trouble."

Little did I know, truer words had never been spoken.

xXxXxXxXx Present Day xXxXxXxXx

I discovered much later, and to my chagrin, that my son had not misled me.

I had not even paused a moment to let him plead his case, to explain what had transpired, silencing him with an ill-timed maker's command. I had not listened to him, I had forced him to betray her, and for that they both had suffered.

It was a mistake I had all intents to learn from.

Because perhaps, if I had accepted my shortcomings sooner, seen my own errors more clearly, and adjusted my approach accordingly, I would still have my newest progeny by my side today.

oOoOoOoOo Flashback oOoOoOoOo

Eric continued to howl and wail through gritted teeth as I stood helpless before him.

Sunset was still over an hour away, which essentially handcuffed us to Eric's safe house – impeding any ability to save Sookie, thereby rescuing them both. I did not know how to shield him from her pain, or how to sever the unnaturally tight tie between them. In over two thousand years of existence, I had never felt so impotent, so enfeebled. I stifled the urge to breakdown myself, as a depressing realization washed over me. It took everything within my power to block my weighty sadness from bounding over our maker-child bond. My child's ear-piercing screams signaled a torture I feared he would never survive, which meant in all likelihood I was not only going to lose Sookie to death on this day, but Eric as well.

My mind scrambled to understand.

When I had left Sookie, she had been sleeping in a hospital bed, her heart monitor beeping in a rhythmic succession. The surgery performed to mend her internal bleeds had been successful, gone off without a hitch, as she would have said. Sookie's condition had been marked stable, and not critical. But now, not so many hours later, the opposite was true.

Somehow, somewhere she was fighting for her life.

Because our small tie told me she was distanced much further from us than she had been when I left her. She had traveled during the day, and possibly over state lines, which meant she had snuck out of the hospital. It was the only possible conclusion to draw because Kim had marked quite clearly on Sookie's chart that she would be under observation for another day or so. They would have never released her, let her go willingly. The surgery had been quite an invasive procedure, and hospital policy was to monitor inpatients for at least forty-eight hours after any surgery, just in case complications arose.

I caged the fury threatening to overwhelm my sadness.

I was angry Sookie would choose to be so reckless, harbor such disregard for her own life by denying herself medical attentions in her most pressing time of need. But I also chided myself for my short swell of irritation. Eric had told me that she begged him not to take her to the hospital, and I imagined she had awoken frightened and disoriented. Surely, she had fled without understanding the ramifications of her actions. Worse yet, her decision had proven to be a poor one, and the thought of losing her scared me almost more than anything else.

Almost.

"Fad-er…" Eric stammered out, biting his tongue so hard fresh blood spilled from the corners of his lips, "Help… me…"

He began to gasp for breaths he did not need. Then his face screwed into an uneasy scowl as blood continued to slip past his chapped lips. He grabbed his head in his hands and let out an ear-piercing shriek before slumping to the floor, as if he had passed out.

There was only one thing I could think to do – I placed a call.

Seconds after we hung up, Doctor Ludwig, the renowned supernatural physician, popped into Eric's house. She ambled into his room, carpet-bag in hand. Spotting his crumpled form, she moved to his side, not a word passing between us, and began her ministrations. As he regained consciousness, I wiped bloody tears from my eyes, struggling to recover from my momentary scare. I found myself quickly distracted as the doctor rattled off probing questions like a Gatling gun. Eric faltered a bit in answering, pain still radiating through his form, but he managed all the same.

She seemed unimpressed, or at least incredulous.

"You're saying you fed your blood to a fairy, without drinking from her?"

The little elvish doctor said, peering skeptically at a grimacing Eric from behind her spectacled eyes.

"Part fairy," I corrected her, answering in place of my child whose gritted teeth obfuscated his ability to respond easily. Eric's pain, which was seemingly Sookie's pain, terrified me to no end, and I was impatient to save him – and then get to her once the sun set, "Yes, he gave his future sister blood… yesterday, and only once, but still somehow they are tied so tight…"

I repeated Eric's previous utterance, letting the words trail off – hang almost corporeally in the air.

I did not know what else to say.

"I doubt that very much…" she said in her gravelly tone after several seconds had passed – too many, in my opinion.

I interrupted the little doctor dressed in robin blue hospital scrubs, "Quit wasting time on trivialities! Fix him!"

Anxieties gripped me tight, impeding any semblance of patience I usually held, or practiced. I hoped, beyond hope, that Sookie's plight was not deadly or worse – I could not stand to lose her. But the sun had not set, and I could not even go outside, let alone to her side. So I had eyes alone to deal with the problem at hand – the one I could at least attempt to solve. Small digestible chunks, it was how I was surviving this tragic situation.

"There's nothing I can do…"

Ludwig responded, and my undead heart clenched – a feat I had previously thought impossible.

I did not like the feeling; I did not like it one bit.

"Then what use are you!?"

I growled back, letting anger stand in place of my sorrow, instantly in Ludwig's face.

"Calm down, vampire!" she shot back, and I knew I had rankled her since she was known to be slow to sling around disrespectful monikers, "You ever let anyone finish a sentence around here?!"

I could not say why, but her insult cut inexplicably deep, and effectively silenced me.

So the little doctor continued, despite the fact I had not stepped back from her, or retracted my fangs.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted TWICE, vampire." She paused, narrowing her eyes at me until I snicked my fangs back in, "I doubt the issue is caused by his blood. I suspect it's caused by hers."

WHAT?!

"YOU DRANK FROM HER?!"

I screamed at my son, the paintings on the walls shaking from the force of my yell.

The shame that instantly bounded across our maker-child bond in droves told me everything I needed to know. I was as mad at myself as I was him. I had not even considered checking Sookie for fang marks or bites when I found her unconscious in my son's arms. Instead, I had made assumptions; I believed my maker's command that Eric protect Sookie as he would me would have prohibited him from such things.

"Did you bite her!?" I roared, "As your maker, I command you to answer me!"

"YES!" Eric howled back in his native tongue, disdain dripped languidly in his tone, "She asked me to! She was dying! I did what you would have wanted!"

My brow furrowed as I struggled to internalize his words.

Sookie had asked him to bite her? Eric could not lie under a maker's command so it had to be true, but at the time, I ignored the most logical inference – that she knew we were vampires – all the same. Instead, I let guilt overwhelm me, drown my sensibilities. Eric had taken the blame for his predicament and thrown it squarely at my feet – where it apparently belonged. He had only ever shown contempt for Sookie, balked at the very mention of her name. Of course he would not have been trying to turn her for himself, or wanted to be tied to her by blood. Everything he had done had been for me, and now he was suffering because of it.

I did not like it; I did not like it one bit.

I pressed at the dwarfish doctor, my anger turning once again to sorrow.

"Surely, there is something you can do to help him, to lessen the bond between them."

"I already told you," She crossed her arms at her chest, seemingly exasperated with me, "There's nothing I can do for him. And before you go flapping your gums at me," I closed my opened mouth, stilling the arguments poised on the tip of my tongue, "you know it's not a bond causing this; bonds don't behave like this, or pop up after just one exchange."

It was true; blood bonds demanded three exchanges. But perhaps Sookie's fairy blood made it different, contained different magics. They were tied so tight; there had to be a reason why.

"It has to be a bond," I implored her, despite my own uncertainties, "what else could it be?"

Dr. Ludwig sighed, looking down, and pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing her black-rimmed glasses up to her forehead. They slipped back into place as she dropped her hand and raised her head.

"I can't say for certain, Godric… not without testing the girl," Fear tendrilled like snakes through me as Doctor Ludwig adopted a more cautious and comforting tone, her countenance awash with unrestrained pity, "but I believe that your part-fairy friend… is of royal blood."

She eyed me carefully as her words settled in, and I could tell she hoped I would glean her meaning without further exposition.

I did.

"The Fairy Blight… I believed it to be a rumor…"

I whispered, almost to myself.

"Yes, the Fairy Blight…" Ludwig confirmed, "It is true that Fae borne in the royal line have different, more powerful blood laced with magics not afforded to other fairies. If your fairy girl is indeed Fae royalty, as I suspect she is, her blood protects her, temporarily binds her tightly to any vampire who drinks from her to incentivize them to stop or risk dying, alongside her. I believe that it is the source of your child's unexplainable pain. The good news is her blood should work itself out of his system in another couple hours or so. It will be gone even faster if you supplement his blood intake with some of your own, and have his progeny do the same."

I had no words; I felt foolish.

It made so much sense. I had wondered why the fairy people had left one of their own defenseless in the Human Realm, hidden amongst their mortal enemies. I had assumed it had been an oversight, a strategic blunder – almost as if they had wanted her to die at the hands of a hungry vampire. But, I was wrong. Sookie had not been abandoned to the world with no protections against my kind; her blood was all the armor she needed.

The greatest of weapons against us, save stakes or sunlight.

"You'll have my bill by Saturday," Dr. Ludwig said, readopting her business-like tone, "Oh, and when you try to turn your future child," she quirked a discerning eyebrow, "spit out her blood, don't swallow it. You and I both know the blood exchange isn't necessary, just useful, and although you may lose something in your maker-child connection, turning her won't kill you that way."

"Will it take then? Can a royal fairy even be turned?"

I had to know, not caring if it would anger the kin who had abandoned her.

Ludwig shrugged, "We won't know until you try. There's nothing on the books to suggest it's ever been done before. You'll let me know either way? I'd like to document your results for the sake of posterity."

I nodded my agreement.

Pop.

With that, she was gone.

I was by my son's side in less than seconds.

"Drink," I directed him, as I pressed my wrist to his lips, "Drink. Ludwig said it will help you to overcome this," I hesitated to go into further detail, "Pam will need to do the same for you when she wakes."

His fangs sank into my wrist without hesitation, and his hands reached up to grab it closer, although there was no need. He pulled at the wound, sucking hard. After three or four deep drags, he snicked his fangs back in, watching my skin knit itself back as if he had not seen the same thing a thousand times before. His anguish-ridden expression had lessened, but I could see that pain still clearly had him gripped tight. I hoped his child Pam would wake soon. He needed more blood, but I hesitated to offer it.

Just in case.

I reached out mentally to stroke my small tie with Sookie, to find out for myself if she was not as ill-fated as Eric's own plight had suggested. It was quiet, purring with a gentle hum that I hoped beyond hope meant she was okay even though she was far, far away. But I needed to lay eyes on her, to ease my inexplicable worries that she was decidedly not okay despite all evidence to the contrary.

I imagined I would be practically crawling the walls from worry until the sun set.

"Addy… I cannot feel her," Eric slurred slightly in his native tongue, bloody tears repainting his stained face, "Fader, I cannot feel her."

"Shhh… I can, I can," I comforted him, drawing him into my arms in an awkward embrace. Perhaps my time with Sookie had changed me more than I had even realized, "She is okay; you will be okay."

Unfortunately, only one of my assurances turned out to be true.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

At night's break I took to the skies, leaving Eric in the care of his progeny, Pam.

Just as Doctor Ludwig had promised, his child's blood overrode the final remnants of the Fairy Blight within my son, freeing him from his future sister's hold. Seeing him well eased my worries, but flooded my mind with thoughts I had pushed to the side – like that Sookie had asked him to bite her. It could only mean one thing, the truth of his words indisputable.

She knew we were vampires, she knew and she did not care.

I honestly could not say whether I felt more shocked or relieved by the revelation. I had been fooling humans for thousands of years, walking alongside them without notice. It had been necessary for survival, to keep myself and eventually my son safe. During my first years as vampire, my maker had allowed me to make a nearly fatal mistake – to learn for myself the folly in exposing my monstrous nature. It had been an eye-opening lesson, one that had informed my actions for thousands of years…

One I unceremoniously ignored when I befriended my future child.

I was not sure why I thought I had fooled her; my friend was neither unobservant nor dim. But I had known Sookie for almost four years, and my strange behavior had gone undiscussed, unquestioned. In all that time, Sookie had never commented on the coolness of my skin or my inability to be out during the day. She merely accepted those things, turned a blind eye to them. It was as if she had purposely avoided those subjects entirely. In fact, as I mentally flipped through years' worth of memories, she had never asked me to join her any time but at night. Her concerns about the Europe trip revolved around how I could join her, not why I had offered... I could have kicked myself.

Of course, she had known!

I was pleased; this was good news. I had made no plans, drafted no stratagems to broach the subject of her future turning, afraid of how she would react to the prospect. But she had accepted my true nature, and had even asked my child to make her a vampire. Juxtaposed against the earlier tragedies of the day, the 'low' lows, I was experiencing a 'high' high – as Sookie would have said. The smile that engulfed my countenance was insuppressible, despite my many anxieties. I had not been happier since Eric, bleeding out after a ferocious battle, had agreed to follow me into the night over a thousand years prior.

Although I hoped the events of the night would not follow the same course.

I was wrong about many things that day.

I flew through the air with a wide grin on my face, blurring at a fast and frenzied pace. The wind tugged at my linen clothes and whipped past me, dancing against my chilly skin. I enjoyed the sensation in a way I had not in hundreds of years. I was more careful than I had been on my flight to Louisiana, avoiding unnecessary risks, but I still maintained an unparalleled speed. The tie that connected me to Sookie was unchanged, but I refused to accept she would be sleeping so early in the day, simply taking a nap. It just did not track with what I knew of the past twenty-four hours.

Plus, my fairy friend was odd, but not quite that odd.

I landed just outside of Dallas proper in an open field off Mockingbird Lane. Without delay, I honed in on my small blood tie to Sookie, grateful that proximity increased my abilities to zero in on her location. Under the cover of darkness, I zipped towards the pulsing beacon, concern filling me to the brim. Now that I was closer, much closer to her, it was clear to me that the hum I had previously felt was actually her heartbeat – and it was slowing. I could not understand how everything had gone south so quickly, but I did not allow myself to waste precious energies on such trivialities.

Details were insignificant, saving my friend was everything.

As I neared White Rock Lake, I knew I was getting closer to Sookie – that she was within less than a hundred yards. I slowed from a vamp to a run, as I came out of the shadows, consciously donning the same affectations as the humans ambling about the trail. But I was on a course to reach her, to find my friend and battle whatever force had taken hold of her and to turn her – if need be. Armed with relieving information, I now knew that she had asked Eric to bite her, had accepted the gift of immortality – before I had interrupted them. She had been willing to become a vampire, to join the night, and I could not imagine anything had changed between then and now. Which was ironic because I had changed – believing not twenty-four hours prior that seventeen was far too young, and now exactly the opposite.

As I said before, I was wrong about many things that day.

Moving at a maddeningly human clip, I bounded down the cement path in Sookie's direction. I paid little attention to those who biked past me, barely hearing their courtesy yells of "on the left!" I was so out of sorts, as was often the case when it came to my future progeny. So much so, I did not notice the strange looking man with the blackening eye planted squarely in my path until he inexplicably knocked me down. The sensation of hitting the ground roused me from my heavy thoughts, and I tamped down the desire to rip his head from his body.

I did not have time for violence, or clean-ups; I needed to get to Sookie.

"You should've been here sooner."

The oddly dressed man uttered in a disrespectful and chiding tone, as he thrust a dirty hand out towards me.

The pungent, garlic-like odor lifting off his offered extremity assaulted my senses, burning my nostrils in an unfamiliar way. I did not respond to his strange accusation or accept his aid. I was unwilling to allow him to transfer his stench onto my skin. So I launched to my feet and growled lowly as I brushed past him unable to stifle my growing irritations. I took care not to touch him or his cloth and metal garb.

Truly, human fashions had baffled me more and more as the centuries had ticked by.

I shrugged off the odd exchange quickly. His words seemed to be the ramblings of someone not quite right in the head, and I had no time to entertain them. I had many more important endeavors to concern myself with – like Sookie, and the weakening thump-thump of her heart thrumming lightly against our small tie.

She was not well, and I was not quite ready to say goodbye.

When I happened upon Sookie, she was stilled and surprisingly corpse-like, an undeniably serene expression painting her bruised countenance. The acrid stench of death hung about her, kissing her skin and hugging her clothes. I knelt by her side, ghosting my fingers over the newest injuries she had acquired during the last twelve hours. Her skin was bespeckled with damages, including finger bruises on her cheeks and barely there pink marks in the crook of her neck – where my son must have drank from her.

Those were hard to look at.

I hated myself for having failed her, for believing, even if just momentarily, that the gentle hum in our tie meant she was okay when she was obviously not. Obviously, someone or something had attacked her; for all I knew it was the homeless-looking man who had knocked me down. I could not say for sure, but I decided then and there I would not push her or force her to relieve whatever tragic events had led her to be here, dying by the edge of the lake where we first met. But I hoped she would tell me in time. I could wait; as an immortal, all I had as time.

And after tonight, she would have an eternity's worth of it, too.

Sookie's skin was cold, and her breath labored. I brushed the back of my hand against her cheek, and she stirred slightly, but she did not wake. I spied an empty pill bottle within arm's reach. Curling it into my palm, I noted it was empty, and had been sized to hold a fair amount of human medicine, more than a handful of doses.

It did not make sense to me at the time, so I did not dwell on it.

I lifted her into my lap, draping her head over my shoulder. My fangs snicked down, and I prepared to bite. I understood inherently the act of her turning – bring her closer to the brink of death so the magics of my blood would take hold – could afflict me with the Fairy Blight. That poisoning could tie us tight, force me to die alongside her – if I was not careful. And I would not have been vigilant or cautious, if not for Doctor Ludwig's revelation. But now I knew better, and how to avoid such a catastrophe. But even if I accidentally ingested some of her sweet elixir despite my efforts, I had already decided the effects would be worth it – because she was worth it.

Laboriously and slowly, I took deep pulls, divesting her body of it blood and spitting each mouthful into the grass beside us. As her breath began to hitch and her body started to convulse, I laid her back in my arms, cradling her like a human infant – precious. I gnashed a hole into my wrist and pressed it to her lips, to fill her with my elixir of second life, my blood. It flowed into her with ease, her throat reflexively swallowing, accepting my gift. We went through this process, my open wound healing every couple of minutes, until it was time to stop and let nature take its course.

I placed a chaste kiss to her forehead and took to the skies with her bridal-style in my arms, heading towards the Dallas Arboretum.

She would need to be buried for three days, and I wanted her to be surrounded by beautiful things, like her. After digging a hole in one of the flower beds behind a rope chain, I carefully laid her down in it, and curled myself around her. With one arm I held her, while the other brushed dirt over us. Once covered, I began to gasp and writhe, almost uncontrollably. Because I had no cause to breathe, the coughing fit that overtook me surprised me, but I chalked it up to the Fairy Blight. I was not able to succumb to the pull of the sun, submit to my day death until after the next night, writhing in pain. But even as I struggled through my small agonies, I smiled – because I finally had my newest child by my side, joining me in the night.

How could I be upset? She was worth it.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Before Sookie's eyes began to flutter open for her first night rising as vampire, I sat anxiously beside her, admiring my newest progeny and waiting patiently to shepherd her into her new life. I trusted she would wake, that the magics would take hold. There were no doubts in my mind, and I had not even bothered to prepare for the worst.

Luckily, as it turned out, I had not needed to.

The sun had been set for over an hour, during which time I had unearthed her, brought her back to the nest. Accepting, if not also understanding, my desire to preserve Sookie's modesty, Sabine ushered me from my room to clean the dirt from my child's skin. Dressing her in one of my tunics, its length to her knees, Sabine tossed Sookie's bloodied clothes into the hearth, burning them into ash. Both of us had agreed it was unlikely Sookie would want to keep them. During Sabine's ministrations, I microwaved several bags of donated blood, which I now held gingerly in my lap. I knew without a doubt she would need them all, and require more blood than myself during her baby vamp years.

If she did not satiate her thirst, the consequences could be dire.

Young vampires, especially right after turning, were especially prone to fits of bloodlust, to their beast overtaking their sensibilities and also any lingering inhibitions they may have held while human. In fact, it was the reason I had chosen to feed my progeny bagged blood. Many fledglings exsanguinated their first meal, drank them dry. I expected Sookie, despite her fairy nature, would be no exception. In fact, I had mentally prepared myself to suffer the brunt of her shock, and hunger, which could turn into bloodlust on a pin if not sated quickly. So when her cerulean orbs met mine, I was neither surprised, nor taken aback by her utterance, or her veiled accusation.

She launched herself to her feet and off the bed, experiencing the first of her acquired vampiric powers – preternatural speed. Instantly, she was across the room, her back pressed against the wall, her hands searching her form – from stomach upwards, stopping at her descended fangs.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!?"

She roared, blurring in front of me to poke me squarely in the chest. Anger was a predicted outcome of her discovery she was now vampire, but also as a passenger to her hunger. So I overlooked her disrespectful display. But she would need to learn the new dynamics in our relationship, defer to me in all measures as her elder, her maker – her protector.

I only had her best interests at heart.

"Drink," I replied, handing her a warmed bag of blood, "You are famished, and require sustenance."

She looked from me to the blood and back to me. I could not identify her expression, but was pleased as she snatched the blood from my hands and whizzed back across the room. She tore into the bag with a fervor that suggested her hunger, as I suspected, was in fact overwhelming her sensibilities, her emotions. I could see she was ravenous, but I could not feel it, a blessing and a curse in itself.

As she gulped down the final contents of the bag gripped tightly in her hands, I held out the second to her. Again, she looked from the blood to me and back to the blood. I did not understand why she hesitated to grab it. I desperately wished I knew what she was thinking.

"I'm just thinking I shouldn't..."

She cut herself off, her face becoming impassive as my countenance became quite expressive. I could not help but wonder if our tie was not quite so silent for her, if she had indeed felt my curiosity and responded in kind. Newborns felt everything so acutely, so severely. Of course, if our tie existed at all, she would notice it first. Perhaps my side of the bond would simply grow into place in time.

A dark cloud lifted from my mind.

This was good news!

"Of course, you should, and it is normal, Sookie," I explained with a small grin tugging at my lips, "for you to feel what may seem like foreign emotions within you. It is part of the magics that bind a maker and his child together, link us. Our connection may be even stronger once Eric's blood inside you has run its course."

I hesitated to explain, but soldiered on all the same.

"He… tried to turn you in New Orleans…" I faltered, "but I stopped him. You were not so far gone you could not be healed. So I made him take you to the hospital instead. I had no idea you had accepted him, accepted our nature..."

It appeared momentarily that my response was unsatisfactory to her as she furrowed her brow, placing her hand to head and closing her eyes for several seconds. It would take her quite some time to finally shuck off her human mannerisms.

She vamped back across the room, and snatched the second bag from my hands, offering me a fresh scowl as she did so. I was hurt, and irritated that she would not even deign to speak to me. But I told myself that her overwhelming hunger most likely still pained her, and like her earlier offense, I let this one pass as well. Now was not the time for hard lessons, while she was still growing accustomed to her new skin, so to speak – discovering her new powers. Eric had gone through a similar transition when he became vampire. Although he had more loudly vocalized his confusion, and displeasure – attacking me, forcing me to restrain him by way of a maker's command. Sookie was quiet since her first outburst, almost contemplative.

Perhaps fairies were more adaptable by nature.

"Sookie, drink. You need the blood to help clear your head. You must pay particularly close attention while I explain the particulars of vampire society, the rules for your new life. It is imperative you understand how to act, and behave – crucial to your survival."

I said as Sookie stood not so far from me, gaping with the unpunctured bag in hand.

She snapped her mouth shut at the end of my speech, cutting her lip with her fangs in the process. Her hand swept upwards and she touched at the wound. It closed under her fingertips. Her expression begged a question she did not ask before she plunged her fangs into the bag, greedily sucking at the probably now lukewarm contents.

While I was pleased my new child had already managed to reign in her emotions, I was despondent I could not feel them. It was as if there was no connection between us at all. Although I imagined she had felt me earlier, I began to worry, almost instantly, that I had deluded myself, fallen prey to wishful thinking. What if Doctor Ludwig was wrong, and I had lost much more than a simple blood tie by spitting out Sookie's blood? What if there were no magics between us? It could mean she would be impossible to control, resistant or possibly impervious to my directives.

And then I would lose her – forever.

Vampires immune to a maker's command, a rarity for sure, were immediately culled, swiftly delivered the true death – with no regard for any protestations from the maker. Sookie had been impossible to glamour, to hypnotize with my eyes – what if my audible commands also just fell on equally unresponsive ears? Having flustered myself, my face betraying not one whisper of my disquietude, I made the decision to silence my fears, issue my first command.

Sookie narrowed her eyes at me, almost expectantly, without dropping the bag or her ministrations. I practically chided myself for thinking there was nothing between us. But I had made my decision, and I was too headstrong, too stubborn to be swayed by an errant scowl, an angry expression. Out of nowhere, she threw the partially-filled container to the floor, letting the blood slosh at her feet, and stared at me, almost as if she was daring me to do it. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then her hands flew to her hips, gripping them with a force I would have thought would cause pain, but her impassive, almost irritatingly emotionless expression was unchanged. I appreciated her stoicism, it took most vampires hundreds of years to master such a feat, but it irked me all the same. So I chose to proceed, still undeterred by her actions.

One day, but not today, I would understand my friend's measures with clarity.

"Sookie…"

I levied, as she overlapped my utterance with "Ezra…" in a somewhat cautioning tone.

I did not heed her warning; I was her fader now, not the other way around.

"… as your maker, I command you never to harm yourself unnecessarily, or bring about your true death."

I would explain the concept of the 'true death' to her later.

I watched as her hands fell to her sides, the words forcing her compliance. She had been injuring herself, a realization much to my chagrin, but I was uplifted to see there was some semblance of magic between us after all. Small mercies. But from her fresh scowl, I was also aware that I had created a rift between us by exposing the hierarchy in our relationship. Even without an overt display, or the ability to read her emotions, I could still tell she did not like it.

She did not like it one bit.

BAM!

The door swung open, hitting the wall hard as it broke the little stopper meant to stifle such happenings.

Sookie jumped back, and then vamped almost instinctively to my side. Any hint of displeasure dropped from her expression as it turned stony and unreadable. She was already a great vampire, and unlike so many newborns on the first night they rose. While I still doubted the existence of a blood tie between us, I tried to push my approval and pride over to her. I hoped she understood her actions pleased me greatly and reflected well on her.

"Godric!"

The King of Texas boomed, as he leisurely ambled into the room.

I greeted him with a quick, deferential nod of my head.

"Hmmm…" Aaron hummed, as he inspected my child from top to bottom, in a way I did not appreciate in the slightest, "… is this your newest child? Miss Harding, I presume? She's quite a lovely thing there. C'mon now, sweetheart, give the two of us a twirl."

While his request sounded innocent enough, I opened my mouth to protest. But much to my surprise, and my chagrin, Sookie stepped out from her position at my side and spun in a slow circle. She did not scowl or grumble in the slightest. She simply complied with an air of submissiveness, as if being asked to display herself was the most natural thing in the world. I could not place a finger on the feeling it bloomed inside me; it was something I had never experienced during my two thousand years.

But it was not a contented sort of emotion.

"Yes, exceptional," King Jameson uttered with a low growl, "Godric, aren't you just the proud papa? And you're just so damn lucky, too! Cattle there presuming she's dead and all, just another victim of some psycho they're calling Berzerker. Ber-fucking-zerker! Where do they come up with this shit?"

I held my tongue as the King unceremoniously broached the subject of Sookie's family, and their publicly tragic demise. I imagined Isabel had given him Sookie's name, since I had called both Eric and Isabel to leave messages during my sleepless day to explain my whereabouts. How else could he have known? I myself had only found out just after sunrise tonight, as I carried Sookie's stilled body into the nest. I hated for Sookie to find out this way. I had not yet told her the gruesome details, that someone had broken in her house and electrocuted her parents and sister to death – she had enough already to process for the night.

But Aaron's insensitivity was not all that bothered me, or nagged at my mind.

The hidden meaning in his words had not been lost on me. There was an unsettling threat in his tone, and I had not lived over two thousand years by ignoring such things. I had not planned to broach this subject at exactly this moment. But, I had previously voiced my decision to focus on my newest progeny's welfare, to resign my position as Sheriff at the time of her turning.

Plus, I was nothing if not adaptable.

The King groused a bit more than was preferable for someone in his position when I resigned mine. But I held firm to my resolve, conceding only to finish my business with the rogue vampire before retiring entirely. Sookie and I still had not discussed "what I had done to her," but while I was not avoiding the conversation, she seemed to be. For hours, she sat motionless on my bed, staring at the blank wall as if it was a beautiful mosaic demanding interpretation.

In fact, the last thing she had said at all had been my name.

Not a stranger to silence, I continued to let it hang in the air throughout the night. She drank several more bags of blood, eyeing me warily each time I handed her a new one. I thought on many things as we traversed her first night turned vampire so easily, too easily. Except for the slight pinch on her face at times, she was altogether too calm, too placid. It was unnerving, instead of awe-inspiring. It was as if she had shut down, and I could not even feel her to confirm my suppositions.

She was usually so happy, so lively. Now that she was undead, it was like she was dead inside.

I was perturbed, to say the least.

"Sookie, what are you thinking? Are you okay?"

I asked, and she shook her head at me in response, shrugging me off impertinently. I had let two indignities pass earlier in the night, and I was not keen to allow a third. She needed to learn to lean on me, to allow me to take care of her – starting right now.

I told myself I had to do it, for her own good.

"As your maker, I command you to answer me!"

"NO, I'M NOT OKAY! HOW COULD YOU EVEN ASK ME THAT?!"

Eyes wide and fear-filled, Sookie began to knead her head in her hands. Although she could not hurt herself, controlled by the magics of my earlier command, I could plainly see she wanted to. I regretted my anger-laced words, and while I could not retract them, I could send her strength – or at least I could try. Not a minute later, she stilled her futile efforts and turned away from me again, to stare at the curvature of the wall. I could smell the bloody tears that poured out of her eyes in droves. But she made no moves to brush them away, or to face me as she further expounded in a crestfallen tone.

"I thought you were my friend, Ezra," She sniffled, even though vampire noses did not drip, "Stupid Addy. So freaking stupid. Thinking the vampire wasn't just pretending to care about you. OF COURSE, he wasted no time laying claim to what he believed was his… I deserve this, I deserve this…"

For the first time all night, I felt her emotions in our maker-child bond, and it was both a blessing and a curse. She felt overwhelmingly defeated, soul-crushingly hopeless.

It broke my undead heart.

"Sookie," I whispered, saddened by her words, which rang true, "I do care for you. You were dying, and I… thought you would accept this, wanted to be a vampire. You had asked my son to turn you only the night before. I assumed…"

Sookie cut me off with the sharp slice of her tongue.

"When you assume, you make an ass out of 'u' and 'me'," she chuckled mirthlessly, "Or in this case, an ass outta you and a vampire outta me."

She had taught me this idiom before, and I understood it with all too perfect clarity. She was telling me I had made a mistake, presumed too many things – that I had turned her against her will. Suddenly the empty pill bottle I had found beside her unconscious form made all the sense in the world. She had tried to kill herself! But I truly could not fathom why. The Sookie I knew had fire and pluck; she exuded sunshine and life. She was a fighter, not a quitter. She had survived a brutal stabbing…

Sookie yawned loudly, needlessly. The noise captured my attention, and shook me from my thoughts.

"I'm tired, Godric. Surely, you can force me to talk to you some other time."

I sensed that sunrise was indeed close, and I knew as a fledgling, Sookie would be powerless to resist its pull. It meant I had mere minutes before she simply slipped into unconsciousness, surrendered to death-like sleep. I did not want to leave things with her like this, so embittered and angry.

I knew I had to make the few moments I had count.

"No, I will respect your decision, if you choose to remain silent. I only ask that you give this life, give me a chance, Sookie. I truly believe you will adjust to this life, even grow to love it in time."

"Ha!" She quipped back with a mistrusting huff, "I'll believe that when I see it."

It was the last thing she said before succumbing to her day death. The last thing she said at all to me before, as she would have said, the veritable shit hit the proverbial fan.