Chapter 17

Over the next week, we talked, and fished and swam in the sea. He helped me cook dinners that he couldn't eat, but I did have him put a slice of pear in his mouth and hold it on his tongue. He said it didn't taste anything like what he remembered, but that he enjoyed the scent. We sat up at night, staring at the stars. He told me about his children and the kind of father that he'd been. There was a tinge of sadness in his voice when he spoke of hearing of their deaths. He had seen his youngest son as an elderly man. Timus sat in the field where Eric's home had been. Timus told the wanderer of a time when he'd been a child and his father had taught him to field dress an ox. Eric had seen the elderly man's grandchildren some years later, but lost track of them as his travels with his vampire family kept him from Sweden.

I recounted for Eric the night I found out that my parents had drowned. I told him of sitting on my little bed in the dark, hearing voices downstairs. Bud Dearborn, not a sheriff then, but a patrol officer telling my Gran she'd better come down to the station. I remembered the light behind Jason's head as it spilled into my darkened room. I told him about seeing their caskets side by side and not being able to cry. At the time, I found it strange that I couldn't cry, in fact, I'd had the impulse to laugh at the sounds of people crying around me. I remembered having a wild moment when I thought I would die too if I couldn't get out of that room. At that instant, Jason took my hand and I saw that he was crying. I couldn't understand why I wasn't more upset. It took a few days, but I had come home from school and my bedroom door was open. I always left my door closed, and something about the door being open when I'd left it closed set me off. I began screaming and raging at my Gran and then I broke down. Something so stupid as a door being left unlatched. Eric nodded, and I knew that he understood.

The next evening, I awoke to a dozen Stackhouse roses on the pillow beside me. I smiled at how thoughtful Eric had been, and I marveled silently at the amount of effort it had taken for someone to send a dozen perfect roses from our home in Louisiana to the South of France. I opened the card and read, "Never alone." I burst into tears, and he came into the bedroom in sweats and a t-shirt. I leapt into his arms and hugged him as hard as I could. He stroked my head and led me to the kitchen where he'd ordered breakfast for me, if it could be called breakfast at 5 in the evening.

Eric played music for me on the stereo. His taste in music was a little surprising, but I could learn to like some of the bands that he played. I told him about being in marching band, and he laughed at me.

"I never saw you as a band geek."

"Well, that's just one thing you didn't know about me. I played flute, so maybe someday, we can have our own concert with you on cello."

We bought music together on the computer, and within minutes we were dancing. I told him that we needed a song, a special song that we could dance to on our anniversaries. He laughed and said he would leave that up to me. We sat on the couch as I went through his iPod looking for songs that I had heard of. I knew from the music at Fangtasia that Eric leaned more towards rock, but some of the bands had angsty names that went beyond rock even.

"Seriously, Eric? The Revolting Cocks?"

"Yes, seriously. They're awesome. You should give them a listen. I promise I'll listen to that country music crap that you listen to."

"Crap? Brooks and Dunn are very talented. How can you have lived in Louisiana for as long as you have and not like country music?"

"Perhaps it is because I hate the complaining. I just have a hard time tolerating it."

"But you can tolerate a band that sings a song called "Fingerfuck?"

"Ah, now, Lords of Acid. That's not rock, that's acidhouse."

Eric's cell phone rang for the first time in a couple of days, so I figured Pam was giving him a status update. She'd been calling every third day to check in, but I figured she really wanted him to know that she was impatiently waiting for him to return so that she could take some time off. I wondered if Pam knew that we'd been with Marius, or if she even cared. My cell phone rang too, and my heart jumped. Something inside me knew that something was wrong. Eric looked at me when my heart skipped, and I got up to answer my phone.

I hadn't used my phone for several days, so it was put away in my day purse. I fished it out hoping it wouldn't stop ringing before I got to it, but it did stop ringing. As I scrolled through the caller ID, it rang again. I didn't recognize the number, but I answered right away.

Eric came into the room and he looked as rattled as a vampire is capable of, which means that his eyebrows were knitted together, but that was the extent of it.

"Hello?" I wanted to ask Eric what had upset him, but the young man got my attention.

"Hi, is this Sookie Stackhouse?"

"It's Northman, actually. Who is this, please?"

"This is Pete Reslin, I'm renting your Bon Temps house. I'm calling because your brother Jason is in the hospital, you need to come home."

I didn't have time to shield myself before I heard in his thoughts that Jason had been shot in the back. The bullet nicked his kidney, and he almost died in the ambulance. He coded at the hospital and was in critical condition. No one was sure if he'd live the rest of the day.

I don't remember fainting, but I must have, because I awoke on an airplane in Eric's arms.

"It's not true, tell me it's not." I put my head in his chest and I cried and cried.

"Angel, we're on our way home. I've been in touch with the hospital. Someone will call us if something happens. My cell phone is right here. I gave the hospital my number and they will call us. I'm so sorry, Sookie." He rubbed my back and tried to soothe me, but I was inconsolable. Jason was all that I had left of my natural family.

"What happened, how did he get shot? Where was he?" I couldn't stop thinking that Jason had crossed the wrong husband and gone home with someone who was looking for revenge. Jason had been so careless about the types of women that he dated that it wouldn't be too hard to believe that he'd pissed a few men off.

"He was shot while riding Arkady at Ravenwood. Anton called me and told me that Jason and some of his Habitat friends have been hanging out at the house. Jason went for a ride, and someone shot him in the back." I must have looked horrified because he interrupted me to add, "When Pam rises, I will call her and have her get to the hospital and give him blood. She will be resistant to the idea, but I will order her to. We're going to take care of Jason, Lover. I swear it to you."

"Why is this happening to us? Eric, why would someone try to hurt him? He hasn't done anything to anyone. How would anyone even know that he was at Ravenwood?

"Sookie, Quinn would know, and Quinn is probably out for revenge. I thought for sure that the bounty would keep him away, but I see that he has become even more antagonistic. I should have killed him when I had the chance. I spared his life only because I understood his desire to be with you. I had the same desires and frustrations that you were not mine and mine alone."

"If Quinn did this, then I will kill him myself. I swear it. Losing my Gran was hard enough, I don't want to be alone."

"Sweetheart, have some faith. Look at me, Sookie, look at me, Jason will make it." I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face in my hands. I couldn't lose Jason. He and I were just getting to know each other as adults. I felt bad that I hadn't been there for him when he'd lost Crystal and his child. I had never taken him seriously, and now I might lose him. I thought about the way that Jason had cared for me when Eric and I were separated. I hopped off Eric's lap and ran to the bathroom to throw up. Eric followed me. I wretched, and he held my hair.

When I was finished, he ran water over a washcloth and wiped my mouth. I looked up at him and he kissed me gently.

"I'm going to take care of you, Sookie. I swore it on my life. No one is going to hurt you, ever again."

"Eric, I'm so scared. I don't want to live without you or Jason. Eric, if he dies----" I felt my throat lock up.

"Shhh, don't talk like that." He looked away, and I knew what was coming. "Angel, if he is close to death, would Jason want to be turned?"

"I don't know. We never talked about it, but I don't think so."

"Are you sure? Jason would be an excellent vampire."

"But he is a were-panther and he is part fairy. What would that make him? You know what it was like for Jake Purifoy being were-animal and vampire. No one wanted him. The vampires despised him as being two-natured, and the weres hated that he drank blood. Please don't turn Jason." I wouldn't want that for him. But I had to wonder if I was being selfish. Jason deserved to have his life. I hated that someone had harmed him trying to get to me. I would rather someone had come after me if they had a beef with me.

"If he asks it of me, I will give him life, Sookie. I will do this for you because you will second-guess yourself every time you miss him. I never want you to know as much about death, loss and regret as I do. I want you to have a long, happy life with me, and you being orphaned surrounded by immortals will not be good for you. It would be too much pressure."

"Eric, I can't think about this right now. I've got to pray for him. I've got to do something other than sit here in this airplane wondering if at any moment, my brother is going to die. It's not right and it's not fair." I began sobbing. "I've got to get home. I want to go home. I want to go home." I felt myself becoming hysterical and Eric made a choked sound; my grief was overwhelming to him. I slipped down into a seat hoping, wishing that at any moment we would be landing in Shreveport, but knowing that we had hours yet to travel. I felt myself being lifted up and Eric had his arms around me, whispering in my ear that everything would be okay and that he would take care of me. I had my head on his shoulder as I cried. He held me as we sat on the sofa in the back; Bobby sat in the front of the plane trying to stay out of our way.

Margie came to our side from the front of the airplane. She poured a ginger ale into a glass and she handed the glass to Eric. He placed me in the seat next to his and suggested that I drink it. I didn't much feel like a drink, but I had been sick, so I took it. I sipped it slowly and Margie nodded to Eric. He looked down at me and tilted the glass upwards to get me to finish it. I swallowed the last of it and tasted something bitter and gritty. I looked at him, and realized that Eric had drugged me.

"Honey, was there something in my soda?"

"It is for your own good, you need the rest."

"How could you drug me? I need to be alert to help Jason if he needs me."

"You need to not spend the next eight hours hysterical. I want you to sleep, I will hold you and keep you safe and you will be rested when we get home."

I was too scared and tired to be mad at him. Besides, he was right, I would go out of my mind if I had to sit still for eight more hours thinking about everything that could be happening to Jason. Eric meant well, and though he often made decisions without consulting me, none of them had ever caused me any harm. I had to learn to trust him. "Thank you for taking care of me, baby. I love you so much." I lay across his lap and lifted my legs up onto the seat. He turned me onto my back and stroked my cheek with his hand. I felt five years old as I watched him intently.

"My Angel, I love you too. You sleep. Do not cry any more. Sleep." He bent down and kissed each of my cheeks. I closed my eyes and yawned.

"What will I do when you have to sleep?"

"We are flying back through our night and into what will be their night when we arrive, I will not have to sleep at all during this trip. Do not worry about me, sleep."

I felt a blanket being pulled up around me. As I drifted to sleep, my thousand year old husband softly sang to me in Swedish.