AN: Hey guys! How'd ya like the last chapter? haha. Well, it had to be done. So, here's the next one in line. I'm thinking I might make this story 40 chapters, a nice round number. Oh, and just forewarning, I guess, I thought this was the best way to handle Bill. He was just kind of "meh" in regards to my story anyway, so why not? Anyway, let me know what you think, and enjoy!

Chapter 36

Neither Pam nor Eric felt comfortable enough around the Yakuza to dare sleeping, so they spent the day awake and feeling drained, but it was a better alternative to not waking up at all.

Sookie's body had been removed and either thrown in a ditch, or taken back to Bon Temps. He hoped for the latter. It would be a bit too obvious if her body appeared in Shreveport that he'd been the cause. Then again, it was just as likely as the Yakuza sliced and diced her with their katanas before tossing her into one of a thousand croc-infested swamps.

And while he sat on his throne, he felt strangely at ease with it, but he was tense. It wasn't the Japanese mafia, or that he'd killed Sookie. What bothered him was the last thing he said to her before she died. He told her that he loved Maria more than he loved her. And he meant it. That was what bothered him the most.

Eric hadn't physically moved in some time, but his mind raced. He was in love with Maria. Something so big should have been obvious to him, and yet it wasn't. It took him seeing Sookie as she really was to snap him out of that delirium. Was her blood so infectious?

It's her blood you're in love with. Not her.

Maria's words echoed in his ears as clearly as if she'd spoken them that moment. She'd been right. She was always right.

But what the hell was he supposed to do now? That information should have been world-shattering. It should have been enough to send him racing after Maria, declare his truth, and take the consequences whatever they might be. But he didn't. He didn't do anything because she was gone and he knew without bothering to go after her how Maria would react.

She would walk away, just like she had.

Pam walking toward him drew Eric's eye. In her hand, she held a small glass reserved for liquor filled with blood. She offered it to him and he took it. It tasted like Sarah. He wasn't surprised. When he handed it back, she didn't move. Instead, she remained.

"What?" He asked her. She clearly had something to say.

"You actually killed Sookie." She said in Swedish.

He arched a brow. "I thought you'd be glad."

"I am. I just never thought it'd happen." She paused and he noticed a brief glimpse of worry cross her features. "You talked to Maria?" he nodded. "She showed you what happened?"

He nodded again, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation. With a small nod of her own, Pam walked away and disappeared into the backroom. When she did, a thought came to him.

Eric rose, retrieved a glass from the bar, and made his way to the basement.

He knocked on the door and waited. Inside, he could hear the shuffle of footsteps and a moment later, the door opened. Bill looked terrible. The veins had progressed to the point that they covered nearly all of his exposed skin. It made Eric's stomach turn. He'd been sick for over a month and didn't look as terrible as Bill did at that moment.

"Eric," Bill said, drawing the Viking's eye. "Please,"

She stepped aside and swept his hand, silently beckoning the Viking inside like the proper gentleman Bill Compton was. Eric entered and Bill closed the door.

"What can I do for you?"

Eric presented Bill with a glass, the glass he'd taken from the bar that was now half-filled with Sarah Newlan's blood –the cure.

"Here," He said. "This is for you."

Bill's brows pulled together as he took the offering. "What is this?"

"A cure." He replied.

The surprise was instant, which Eric expected. Bill's gaze danced between the glass, which he now held with a level of reverence, and Eric.

"How?"

"Sarah Newlan swallowed the cure. That's her blood, but you can't tell anyone." Eric said firmly. "It has to remain between us."

Bill stared at the slowly drying blood. Eric felt compelled to leave. He'd done what he planned to do, and wanted to finally wash his hands of Bill Compton and Bon Temps completely.

On the outside, it might have seemed odd that someone like Eric Northman would bother risking everything to save Bill, but to the Viking it made total sense. They might have been through Hell together, and he wasn't overly fond of the dark-haired vampire, but Eric respected him. Bill saved Pam. He saved Willa. He had even tried to save Nora, and while he hadn't succeeded with the latter, Eric wasn't completely devoid of family because of Bill.

In spite of everything, Eric felt he owed Bill a chance to save himself.

"Thank you, Eric, truly, but I…" His sentence fell away. "I can't accept this."

To Eric's surprise, Bill offered him the glass once again. For whatever reason, he took it.

"Why?" He felt compelled to ask.

Bill went on to explain his reasoning, and while Eric could respect it, he thought it was oddly foolish as well. Still, he had no intentions of trying to talk the vampire out of it. Eric had always thought that a man should have the choice over his own death. He did when he was human, so why would he rob Bill of the chance? If the southerner wanted to let the virus take him, to die the Truth Death versus living, Eric wouldn't stop him.

"Will you do me a favor?" Bill asked. Eric nodded. "Will you speak with Sookie? Ask her if I may call upon her later?"

Eric found himself standing at a crossroads. To the left, he could tell Bill the truth that Sookie was dead, that she'd died at his own hand, and that there was no way for Bill to ever speak to her again. To the right of the crossroad, he could lie, and straight ahead he could simply refuse.

The urge to tell the truth came fast. It bubbled in his throat and even touched the tip of his tongue, but somehow he did his best to bite it down. For whatever reason, and likely a reason he'd never be able to identify, Eric couldn't bring himself to tell Bill the truth.

"Sure," he said.

Bill smiled a genuinely happy and relieved smile. Eric pitied him.

After he left the house, Eric decided on one thing that, had the situation arisen a year prior, would have been impossible. He decided to show Bill Compton a kindness that he knew no one else would.

Eric listened intently to the inside of the house and heard Bill walk upstairs. He heard him cross the hall and enter a room. A moment later, he heard the bedsprings groan. Eric rose into the air and soon found the window that led to Bill's bedroom. He was lying down, curled onto his side with his back to the window. Eric recognized that level of exhaustion and knew, somehow, that Bill was already asleep.

A nearby tree was within arm's reach and with little effort, Eric snapped off a thin, strong twig. He drifted to the window and pushed it gently open. As silent as possible, he crept up to the sleeping vampire and, before Bill could possibly rise, pierced his heart from behind with the twig.

Bill's body, weakened by the virus, melted easily. It put up no resistance.

With the same casual ease, Eric left.

On his way back to Shreveport, Eric tossed away both the glass of Sarah's blood and the twig he'd used to kill Bill Compton. He'd put the vampire out of his misery, ended his suffering when no one else would. As far as Bill knew, he would awaken to the sight of the love of his life and get to see her one last time, speak to and kiss her one last time. He died with that hope and that was, honestly, the greatest present Eric could give him. Bill wouldn't have to die with the knowledge that Sookie had met the Truth Death before him. He was allowed to dream.

As far as Eric was concerned, his hands were washed entirely of Bon Temps, even though he knew it wasn't true. Eventually, when Sookie's disappearance was noticed, her brother would storm Fangtasia demanding information like he had last time. It could go on for months, and Eric knew that, too. But it didn't matter. He didn't care about Jason Stackhouse. A glamour would get rid of the idiot.

Maria was doing her best to fall asleep on the train in her own private bunk. She was in no desire to go anywhere fast, but felt the need to simply go. With her body under her own control again, she wanted to go wherever she could just because she could.

In a month or so, she'd return to Bon Temps and have her fun with Miss Stackhouse. She'd been exposed to a fair bit of torture in her life and as a result, she knew exactly what she was going to do to Sookie. The thought brought a very real smile to her face as she drifted to sleep. Her revenge would be lovely.

But as she let herself slip and was comforted in a number of violent thoughts, her mind wandered. As anyone could attest, the closer you get to sleep, the harder it is to control what you think about. As a result, Maria, reluctantly, thought about Eric.

The moment the blonde vampire entered her mind, Maria's eyes opened. She stared up at the ceiling of her cubicle.

When she'd gone home, Maria intended to pack her things so that she could leave. She wanted to travel, but the smell of rotting food and the mess her house had been left in made her linger just long enough to clean things up beforehand. When everything was presentable enough that she wouldn't mind it being left for however long, she packed her clothing.

As she left, she spotted a piece of paper on the floor of her foyer. It was far from the door, but clearly hadn't fallen off of anything. For whatever reason, she picked it up. It felt like she was supposed to, so she did, and stowed it in her bag to deal with later.

After locking the door, she was presented with Eric. The sight of him standing there, on her property and as healthy as he should have been left her conflicted. Maria was both relieved and irritated immediately at the sight of him. She was glad he'd been cured, intensely happy for it in fact, but she was still angry with him.

He'd hurt her feelings in a way that was hard to recover from. It wasn't simply that he'd chosen someone else. That could hurt anyone, but that sort of pain faded with relative ease. That was the way of life. It happened all the time. The difference between that and what happened to Maria was the year Sookie was gone. Feelings developed and grew. They became closer in that year, close enough that his clear rejection when Sookie returned had a profound effect.

And she hated him for it. It'd been a long time since Maria felt something for anyone, so the fact that it ended as it did made her angry.

And then there was the letter. Well, it was more of a note, really.

After purchasing her ticket and taking a seat at the station to wait for her train, Maria suddenly remembered the piece of paper. She dug it out of her bag and read over its contents. Her heart instantly sank.

Come home. I'm sorry.

Four words, two simple sentences, and a fair amount said regardless. She knew it was from Eric without bothering to think about it. Not only did she lack a thriving social life, but more than once he'd asked her to "come home". It was the "I'm sorry" that bothered her so much. To the best of her recollection, Maria couldn't remember Eric Northman ever apologizing for anything, let alone to her.

Part of her wanted to go back to Shreveport, to act like nothing happened and to attempt to pick up where they'd left off. It would be stupid for her to lie to herself and say she didn't. What would be the point? Maria prided herself on her honesty.

But she wouldn't. So long as Sookie Stackhouse was alive, Maria knew there was no chance for her and Eric to regain what they had. In truth, they probably never would, but the fairy being alive was an impassable barrier to that.

Now, that wasn't to say that once she killed Sookie, Maria would run back to Eric like a simpering little girl. She wasn't that sort, and she didn't like the desperation in it, but when Sookie was dead, Maria knew that she and Eric could, possibly someday, repair the damage the bitch had caused. They did, after all, have much longer than a human would to mend what was broken.

The Following Morning in Bon Temps

Jason trudged through the front door. His eyes darted around the first floor while he bounded easily to see around corners.

"Hey, Sook!" Jason called out. "Sook!"

But there was no response. She wasn't in the kitchen, in the living room, or anywhere downstairs. With a sigh and a groan, Jason jogged upstairs. He couldn't believe he'd somehow waken up before his sister.

She must have still been reeling about Alcide's death or Bill's illness.

"Hey, Sookie! Where are ya?" He called out again and again there was no response.

When he opened her bedroom door, he saw why. Sookie was lying in bed, but it was wrong. She wasn't asleep. Maybe it was because of all the dead bodies he'd seen in his adult life, or maybe it was because Sookie was lying on top of the blankets in her clothes. Whatever the reason, he knew she was gone.

Somehow, Jason's body managed to move. It brought him around until he could look at her. Sookie's eyes were open and focusless. The color was already fading. No longer a bright blue, they had become almost milky.

His tears were immediate. Jason collapsed to his knees. They slammed into the wooden floor with an angry bang. He reached out with a shaking hand to touch her, to sweep some of her hair behind her ear. She was colder than ice.

He began to shake uncontrollably. Jason was alone now.

A week later, Maria was walking along the streets of Montreal. She didn't know what took her to Canada, but she was glad to be there. Montreal was a beautiful city, and she'd been enjoying it.

A cup of coffee from one of the thousand Tim Horton's in the country warmed her hand through her glove. It tasted of maple. Granted, Maria was well aware it could all be in her mind, but she could have sworn that was a hint of maple within her coffee and it made the beverage delicious.

As she walked down the street, the beautiful expanse of a park caught her attention and in the dim light of the early night, it was almost heavenly. She decided to walk through it, but a vendor selling steaming food was practically calling her name.

Quebec was a primarily French speaking province of Canada, and Montreal, being the capital, was the same. Signs, buildings, and a number of other things were written in French and their English translation in smaller print beneath it was common, as was conversations in the much more romantic language. Maria loved it. It was such a stark change from the hillbilly voices of Louisiana that she relished it.

With coffee in one hand already, Maria decided on a pastry and ordered one from the very kind, middle-aged Frenchman with ease. It'd been so long since she'd spoken another language that she was glad she still could. Smiling, she continued on.

Everything was perfect. Her smile hadn't faded and she doubted it could as she sat on a bench and finished her purchases.

Filled with warmth and genuine contentment, Maria eventually decided to continue her walk. Even though she didn't need them, she was nestled deeply within plush winter clothing. Her cashmere scarf was softer than silk, her coat thin, but adequate. Montreal was also a great place for shopping.

Along paths, through trees, and past people, Maria was filled with…

Everything suddenly went cold. There, standing roughly thirty feet away, was Eric. He was stood in the middle of the pathway, lit by the nearby orange glow of the lights. He wore a black peacoat that had been buttoned up, a pale grey scarf tied fancifully around his neck, and a pair of dark jeans. He looked like a model from any number of magazines.

The thought to turn around and walk away was strong, strong enough she could almost feel her feet moving without her permission, but she stopped herself. There was no point. Eric would simply appear in her path again. He'd do it a thousand times just because he'd enjoy the game. The best thing for her to do was to simply confront him.

Whether she wanted to or not, Maria took a deep breath and forced herself to walk forward. Their gaze never diverted, still locked until they were perhaps five feet away from one another.

"Hi," She said, though why she didn't know.

His lips curled into a grin. "Hello."

Maria didn't like that there was a tone to the simple word, or that a part of her was glad to see him.

"What are you doing here?"

"It took me a little while to find you."

Liar, she thought to herself. "That didn't answer my question."

His smile widened until she could see his perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. Apparently, she amused him. Maria scowled slightly, not only for his reaction, but because it made her heart flutter just a bit.

"Come home," He said as his face relaxed once more.

She eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't travel thousands of miles to bring me back to Shreveport."

He arched a brow. "No?"

"No," She repeated. "You wouldn't travel this far unless you wanted something." And on reflex, she said something that made her chest hurt just a little. "I'm still going to kill Sookie. You can't stop me, no matter how far you travel to try, so just save your breath."

"Sookie's dead."

Maria's brain genuinely paused. It simply stopped working, unable to comprehend what she'd heard, or absorb it. The words still hung in the air, waiting for her to take them, but she wasn't entirely certain she could.

"I… what?"

Eric took a single step closer until she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. She wouldn't, though.

"Sookie's dead."

There they were again, those words. She should have been glad for it, happy that the bitch was finally dead. She should feel the need to celebrate that there would be no miracle that brought Sookie back into their lives, but she wasn't. She couldn't be glad because Maria had been robbed of the chance to do it herself.

"What?!" She hadn't meant to yell the word, to say it with such rage, but that was how it left her regardless.

The sound and intensity of it must have been extreme because Eric took a step back until he stood where he had only a moment prior. He watched her as though she would erupt in flames of anger. Perhaps she would.

"What do you mean she's dead?" she finally managed to ask. "How? What happened?"

Eric said nothing. Instead, he removed his hand from his pocket and offered it to her.

"See for yourself." He said simply.

"No," She snapped. "I'm not touching you." She noticed him flinch and his hand retreat slightly. "You think I want to see, to feel how you felt about her? You know how this goes. There's no way in Hell I want to put myself through that. Just tell me what happened."

It took a moment, but eventually Eric lowered his hand and placed it back into his pocket. She could tell he was hurt, but he had to realize there was a reason for it. He had to understand. He was smart enough.

"I killed her."

"Bullshit," The word came as quickly as her previous what, filled with utter disbelief. Eric scowled, which surprised her. "Fine," she didn't bother hiding her sarcasm. "Then why did you kill her?"

She saw him bite down, saw the way the muscle in his jaw flexed beneath his ivory skin. He wasn't happy with how she was treating the situation, but in truth, how else was she supposed to react? It was unbelievable.

"For you." He said. Her confusion deepened. "For what she did to you."

Maria shook her head, but she wasn't entirely certain why. "Bullshit," she repeated. "That's bullshit. You'd never hurt her, least of all for me." She noticed him stare at her with a strange expression, one she couldn't immediately identify. "You're just trying to get me to leave her alone."

"You can't be serious."

"Absolutely," She said plainly. "I completely believe you'd do anything you can to protect your fairy. And it's not going to work, Northman."

She could tell he was losing his patience with her. He was getting agitated more than she thought he should, as though there was something he wanted to say that would explain it, but he wouldn't.

"You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," She replied. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Maria took a breath and sighed. She was no longer in the mood to continue placating the Viking. He wasn't going to convince her that Sookie was dead, let alone at his hand. If there was one thing Maria doubted she would ever believe, it was that Eric Northman, a man who'd been obsessed with and willing to die for Sookie, would suddenly turn on a dime and kill her. As far as she was concerned, nothing could have possibly meant that much to him. So, naturally, it was all a lie.

"I'm done." She said. "Go back home and tell her I haven't forgotten. Goodbye, Eric."

Turning her back on him, Maria walked back the direction she'd come. He didn't appear in her path. Instead, she heard a swoosh from behind and knew he'd flown away.

She walked for some time, lost in thought and replaying her unexpected conversation over and over. It was bullshit. It had to be.

Then again…

Maria reached into her pocket and retrieved her cell phone. She brought up Google and typed in Sookie's name along with obituary and Bon Temps. To her shock, there was a response. Maria suddenly stopped.

The small town of Bon Temps mourns the passing of one of its residence, Sookie Stackhouse. Miss Stackhouse was deeply loved by her friends and family, and is survived by her brother Jason. The funeral will be held-

And that was when she stopped reading. There was no denying that the small lines were written about the blonde, not only because she had one of the dumbest names Maria had ever heard, but there was a picture. There she was, Little Miss Sookie, smiling back through the screen. The funeral was two days ago.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead.

Did that mean that Eric had really killed her? It seemed too fantastical, too unbelievable because that meant he did it for her, and Maria simply couldn't accept that.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead.

A sudden wave of anger boiled inside Maria and erupted from her mouth in a loud, ferocious yell. She clenched her fist around her phone, breaking the piece of plastic and metal into a thousand useless bits. She yelled and she yelled and she yelled, and she even punched a nearby tree.

Sookie Stackhouse was dead and Maria would never get her revenge. She'd never get to see that fear in the blonde's eyes, or the hopelessness. She'd never get to see the moment where Sookie gave up because she knew no one was going to come and save her.

Maria would never get to show the fairy just how much she hated her because Eric had taken that chance from her.

And then, Maria's tirade stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun. If Eric killed Sookie, that meant the last thing the waitress saw was a man she claimed to love, a man who'd proven that he'd die for her, and a man who openly said he was devoted to her. Maria assumed that Eric would have drained the blonde given his obsession with her blood, so Sookie would have been holding Eric, probably in some "lover's embrace" and then suddenly realized at some point that she was going to die and he would be the cause.

A smirk curled her lips. She wondered if Sookie was afraid. She wondered if there was a split second of heartbreak and disbelief before she died.

She wondered if someone had filmed it?

As Maria stood there thinking over her many many thoughts, she noticed that the late-night people were staring at her. A crowd had formed, in fact, and most of them were on their phones. It was only then she realized how insane she must have looked to the residents, to suddenly go from screaming rage to laughter within seconds. They were probably calling the police to come and deal with the crazy lady.

She left the park before the flashing lights could appear.