Thank you guys so much for your alerts and reviews. It makes my day, thank you! This is the last chapter of Sookie being fourteen. She'll be as old as she was when True Blood kicked off, I'll just tie some loose ends up; such as where Niall went off to.

Chapter Twelve

While I'm not the best sprinter in the world, I push myself to extremeties. I don't know whether Warlow is quick on my tail or not, but I don't bother looking back to check if he is.

I just force myself to keep on moving, pushing in between branches and thick trees. Fatigue seeps its way into me, but I ignore it, best as I can. If I stop moving, he'll catch me somehow, and although I don't know much about this psycho I'm betting he won't give up without a fight to catch me. Plus, I just sprayed him with lemon juice and, because of that, he is bound to be a little angry and maybe even motivated enough to cause me life-threatening damage. I don't know where I'm running or where I'm running to, but I sure know what I'm running from. The heat of the morning is horrible and I can feel sweat running down my face, but I know I have to keep moving.

My survival depends on it.

"Come back here!" Suddenly I hear him shouting and it's enough to push my legs into moving more quickly. "Do you realize what you've done and to just whom, you little fucking bitch?" I can't tell, by the sound of his voice, how much distance is between us. All I know, is that he sounds angry. Really, really angry. Like lethally.

And to call me a little fucking bitch? Well, that is really no polite way to address your bride-to-be, is it? That disgust at the idea of marrying this Warlow guy just went up a few notches.

I really wish I knew what more to do. I wish Grandpa Niall would suddenly appear, since Eric can't. I wish I had someone to tell me what to do, since running is exhausting and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up for. My legs tremble from exhaustion and I'm that close to giving up. But then another idea comes to me. I don't know if it'll help any, but it has to be worth the try.

The tree above me, while not terribly tall, is intermingled with branches from the next tree closest to it, which ought to hopefully give me some decent concealment. Pushing up with my legs, I grab the first branch I can reach, and then start climbing my way up. I find a steady branch at the top, fling myself up, and make sure I'm seated securely over it. I can't imagine he can possibly see me, since all these leaves and branches are blocking everything.

I try to breathe deeply through my nose, hoping to get over my exhaustion from all the running. I hear twigs snapping from below and as I look down, there he is, the psycho, looking around furiously for any sign of me and where I have gone. His face is swollen and red raw- particularly in the eye area- from the lemon juice, but it isn't smoking anymore.

I can hear him muttering to himself quietly, probably calling me even worse names than what he just did before, and then he comes frighteningly closer to the tree that I've climbed, and its as if my body has turned into cold stone over it. I force myself to hold my breath and remain still as I possibly can, while he stands there, looking around wildly. He can't know I'm here, can he? Please, no.

"Where are you?" I hear him say; The words coming out a frustrated growl. "Where have you gone, my bride? I can smell you."

For a moment, I dread I'm going to be caught in my hiding place. If he can smell my scent, what hope does that leave me, if any? But then, filling me with relief, he punches the trunk of the tree next to the one I'm in brutally, the leaves and branches quiver, and then he's off. I hear his footsteps as he storms away furiously, in the opposite direction. And then he's gone.

Everything turns eerily silent as I sit and wait for him to return. I don't know how long I sit there for, in the tree, but after it feels like hours have passed, it's started getting dimmer, and he obviously isn't going to return, I gain enough courage to start climbing down again. I take it slowly, listening carefully for him while I do it. The minute I hit the ground, I start running again, into the direction I was previously running away from, towards home where Gran is. At least I know I'll be safe in the house. He can't enter unless invited, surely.

Jogging lightly on the balls of my feet so I don't exhaust myself out again too much, I try to open up my mind. Grandpa, I think very clearly, hoping he can hear me. Grandpa, it's Sookie. Where are you? Warlow came for me. Been hiding from him out in the woods near home all day. I hear nothing, no one replying back to me to somehow ease my mind, and despair flares within me. I never realized how lonely all of this could be. If there was anyone that would make me feel better talking to right now, it would have been Grandpa Niall.

Where the fuck does everybody disappear off to, when you need them the most?

Once I reach the familiar beaten down track, I slow down to a brisk walk, looking up at the clouds in the sky. The sun has already just started to go down, which means Eric will be awake eventually. If I can't talk to Grandpa Niall, at least I know I'll be able to talk to Eric about all of this. It certainly helps to know I have someone to talk to who understands.

When I get inside, I hear Gran talking on the telephone to somebody. She doesn't sound too pleased, and when I head into the kitchen and wave at her silently, she gives me a look of disapproval. I'm definitely in trouble, and it's probably because I didn't make it to school today. Listening to her thoughts tells me I'm not wrong on that; Apparently Mr. Merlotte called her and let her know of my absence in all my classes today, and Gran has been worried sick for me. When Gran is finished with her phone call, she slams the phone down, extra loudly, to make it more obvious, I guess.

"Do you have any idea how worried I have been, young lady?" she asks me, giving me one of her stern looks. Gran can be pretty intimidating when she wants to be, even for an elderly lady. "I had your teacher call me today. Apparently you didn't turn up to school at all today. Is that true?"

Since I know lying will only get me into deeper trouble, I nod apologetically at her.

"Right. And just where have you been all day?" She crosses her arms over her chest, still maintaining her strict look. "What can be more important than you turning up to school and finishing your education?"

Of course, I can't tell her the real truth. I wish I could, but I can't. She can't know, about anything. "I'm sorry, Gran. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Yes, and it better not."

"It won't, Granny. I'm sorry!"

I give her a kiss on the cheek and I know instantly that all is forgiven. She softens up to me enough to give me a tiny smile and pats me on my cheek, then she moves back over to the stove to get supper ready.

Once Jason comes home, we all eat in peace, with nobody really saying anything. Gran keeps throwing funny looks my way, though, and I know, courtesy of her mind, that she's still fretting over where it is I possibly could have gone off to all day. It makes keeping secrets from her all the more difficult. Plenty of times I had almost spilled everything to her, with only just reminding myself it was better if she didn't know. I didn't want to put her in danger's way, somehow, if she knew what was really going on. So usually, I kept everything to myself, close to my chest.

After finishing dinner, I helped Gran wash the dishes and then felt it happen. First time I had felt it, I very nearly jolted into the air. It's a feeling, an unnerving sensation, that told me Eric was near. I have felt it even after six years; A soft of warm feeling in the very pit of my stomach; one of nervous anticipation in seeing him again. I put the dishes away in record time while Gran goes into the living room to watch some T.V with Jason, and then I use their distractions to my advantage in slipping quietly out the back door before either her or Jason notices.

Eric's so pale in the darkness that I notice him the instance I close the backdoor quietly.

"He came for me today," I tell him straightforwardly, since I don't know what else to say. Something tells me he'd want to know anyway, and I don't see how beating around the bush helps any. "Warlow came for me."

"I know he did."

I feel myself jolt back in confusion over that. "How do you know already?"

"Because I felt it."

"And how did you do that?"

"Because I've had your blood, and you've had mine. Remember?"

Of course, I do remember, and it isn't something you can forget easily. We've had each others blood about three times over the course of six years, and despite that, it doesn't get any easier. I don't mind Eric having mine so much, but having to ingest his and force myself to swallow it down, it's... unpleasant and gross on me, for obvious reasons: I'm no vampire, of course. Him already knowing kind of sucks the fun out of telling him about it. I was kind of hoping to vent.

"I took your and Niall's advice about the lemon juice and sprayed him a couple of times," I admit, surprisingly not feeling bad at all in causing another pain. "He didn't take it too well. He was real pissed off and went all scary after I did."

I catch Eric raising his eyebrows at me. Apparently he didn't think I had it in me. Truth be told, neither did I.

"He's still out there somewhere, though," I go on, since he doesn't say anything. "I ran away from him and hid so that he couldn't find me. I know I probably should have, but I just... I couldn't bring myself to kill him. I'm not ready to be a murderer just yet."

"And you're waiting for me to do that for you?"

I scrutinize him in the dark. Well, as much as I can properly see of him anyway. Am I waiting for him to do it? Am I expecting him to kill this Warlow guy for me, so I don't have to? "I...I don't know what I'm wanting," I tell him uncertainly. "I know that he meant me harm at the time, but it kind of never crossed my mind to actually kill him. But he's out there somewhere." I turn and look out in the yard, trying to see through the dark. "I don't know if he's still in the woods or not, but he very well could be." The thought is unsettling, so I deliberately change the subject, turning my eyes back on his face speculatively. "So you felt it? Can you feel everything I'm feeling?"

"As if the feelings were my own, yes. I felt your fear. I felt everything. Evidently, I couldn't do anything about it, because it was still daylight out. But I did feel it."

"Because we've exchanged blood?" He has never really explained it in full length to me before. How it works.

"Yes, exactly because of that."

"And will it ever wear off?" I ask him curiously. "Like, does it wear off after a couple of years?"

"Unless either you or I die, no, it won't."

It never occurred to me it would be a permanent thing. I feel things, sometimes. Definitely things that Eric himself is feeling. Anger sometimes over nothing that's happening to me while its being felt, hunger. I definitely feel hungry now, come to think of it, which must mean that Eric is no doubt hungry, too. It's bizarre, considering I have just eaten dinner, but I'm guessing it belongs to him. It's his hunger.

"Have you fed yet?" I ask him, although I think I already know the answer.

"I haven't. I haven't gotten the chance to. I came here as quickly as I could."

"When was the last time you did?" I ask, assessing him closely. He definitely seems a lot paler than usual, if possible.

He shrugs and stares down at his boots. "Two nights ago, at the bar. There was this fangbanger, who was pathetically eager for me to feed from her. So I-"

"-Yeah, all right," I cut him off hastily. I really don't want to hear any of it. It's his own business, what he does with fangbangers, not mine. I tilt my head and toss my hair back, exposing one side of my neck to him. "I think you're hungry. Well, at least, I'm assuming its your hunger I feel right now. I just ate, so it's definitely not coming from me."

Eric has never bitten me on my neck before. Usually, it's on my wrist. First time, it was on my finger. I don't really mind it. The pain isn't bad at all. In a way, I'm mostly glad to do it, because he's one of my best friends and I trust him not to go too far. Wouldn't you do anything for a best friend, even if its them feeding from you to provide them some sustenance to get them through, for at least a little while?

I can sense his hesitation.

"Go ahead," I encourage him gently. "I've got a full stomach, so it isn't like I'll faint or anything."

"You sure?"

I smile to myself at his question. "Yep, I'm more than just sure. You need a neon sign or something? It's just lunch for you, and this is what friends do, right? They take care of each other."

He moves closer to me, and I can still feel his hesitation. But when I catch him staring down at the exposed side of my neck, the offer proves too tempting for him to refuse. That hesitation fades away and then intense hunger is in its place. I hear him draw fang, he smooths my hair back with his palm carefully as he moves in closer, slumps down eye-level to me, and then it happens. It always helps to be prepared for it, but I can't help whimpering quietly when his fangs penetrate my skin. When they do, it's always a real shock to the system.

I try to distract myself by putting my mind on other things, while I hear him make a deep moan of delight, which reverberates through me. "Anyway, Warlow tried to deny responsibility over killing my Grandpa's ancestors," I go on, in a weird sounding voice. My voice comes out too uneven and squeaky. I can feel my heart rate picking up a notch, in a terrible way that doesn't leave me feeling none too happy with myself. "He said that there is two sides of him; One full of light, and one full of darkness. I didn't believe him, of course. No doubt he knew what he did while he was doing it, right?"

Eric grunts against me in assent.

"He was pretty creepy. He called me a little fucking bitch, and everything. How rude is it to call someone that? No less someone you expect to be your bride... I didn't want to be his bride anyway, but calling me that pretty much sealed the deal."

It occurs to me that I'm being extra chatty tonight, but since Eric is doing what he's doing in drinking from me, I figure I very well have good reason to be. I'm more talkative when I'm nervous, anyway.

"Speaking of which... have you heard from Grandpa Niall lately? I was hoping he would have come to me today, only he didn't. Do you know what he's up to?" I feel a surge of annoyance blow through me- definitely from Eric, not from me. His fangs retract and then he pulls away from me, sighing heavily while wiping the blood off his mouth with his hand. "Better now?" I ask.

"Much," he admits quietly. I hear him bring out his fangs again and I know he's going to bite himself so that he can use his blood to heal the spot on my neck up. I beat him to it by pushing his hand away before he can so much as even try. "I am sure your Grandmother would be very pleased to see a bite on your neck and learn that her young Granddaughter is associating with and feeding vampires."

"Please, I'm not that silly." I give him a pointed look as I hold my palm over the bite on my neck, thinking gentle thoughts like Grandpa Niall told me how to do it. I feel heat rise from the skin on my palm and then a gentle zapping noise which takes all the aching of his bite away. "Is it all gone now?"

"It sure is," he murmurs, sounding a little stunned. I've surprised him by being able to use my healing power. I'm pleased. At least I'm getting better at healing myself. No sticky gooey vampire blood needed. "I do have to wonder why it is that Niall thinks I need to stick around with you, now that you've developed nicely. I can't see what more I can do, and since you're still alive after Warlow today, I think you'll have no problem being out on your own in the world now. If danger comes to you, you know exactly what to do. I believe my job here is done."

I feel a stab of pain and heartache over his words; feelings that are completely of my own. I hate the thought of Eric going away and not seeing me anymore, but deep down inside, I kind of know it has to come, sooner or later. Usually I just closed the door on thoughts like that, because he means too much to me, and it makes me almost feel like crying to think such things like that.

I feel moisture building in my eyes, and I know I'm about to cry. But I force myself to set my chin and ignore the ache in my throat, looking up at him. "So this is goodbye then?" At least I don't sound emotional, so that's one thing I have working in my favor.

"I guess it is. Not forever, of course. There will come a time when we will meet again soon."

Suddenly goodbyes don't seem so hard then, if it isn't in any way permanent.

Hardly caring what I'm doing, I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and hug him with all my might, resting the side of my face against his hard chest. There is nothing quite like hugging your undead best buddy. "I wish you didn't have to go," I whisper quietly, feeling nice and secure as he wraps an arm around me, returning the hug. He strokes my hair with his hand and I inhale in deeply, trying to never forget how nice and cosy it feels being in his strong arms. "But I understand. You got your own things to do like... running your bar, and I'm sure having to hang around with a girl like me and indulging me isn't very fun for you right now." I feel my nose starting to run as I pull back to look up at him. There's something there glistening in his eyes, and I think he feels just as regretful about having to leave as I do. "Just so you know, I'm thankful for everything you've done for me. I hate that it's the time to say goodbye, but I think I knew all along that it was coming one of these days. You couldn't stay with me forever." I nod and force a smile on my lips. "I understand."

"This is not the end, Sookie Stackhouse," he says with reassuring confidence. "Trust that in the future we will be seeing each other again soon. Don't cry." I never realized that I am crying, until he uses the tips of his thumbs to stroke around my eyes gently. My face is all wet, and he's wiping my tears away. So much for not crying... "Have patience and remember how invaluable your life is. You know that danger is still out there for you, so whatever you do, do not go out of your way to actively seek it."

"Don't actively seek it," I repeat numbly.

"Self-preservation above all else," he reminds me solemnly, and then he leans down and kisses my forehead, one last time. I hear him inhale me in as he puts his nose near the start of my hairline, getting his last whiff of the Sookie Eau de Fairy, and then he steps away from me. "Remember everything Niall and I have taught you. Don't hesitate to do whatever it takes to keep yourself alive." He sighs deeply as he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of my hair back behind my earlobe. "And, with all of that said... it's goodbye for now, little fairy. As hard and strange as it is for me to admit it, you have made me learn that tiny humans aren't so bad and make the most exceptional friends."

"Bye, Eric." Too quick for my eyes to see, he takes to sky and is gone.

I feel drained and empty the instance it fully settles in that he isn't near me anymore, and that this is goodbye. But I remind myself that it's not forever, and that the future is waiting for me. We'll meet again soon, as he said. It'll happen in the future, sometime and someplace, but as for now, I have to let myself forget all about it. Now isn't the time for excitement. Warlow's still out there, he is no doubt pissed, and I need a clear head.