In Another Life... by PersianFreak
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Charlaine Harris. Please don't sue.
Rating: M
Spoilers: None
A/N: Much love to everyone who reviewed: you guys make my life. Just fyi, both West Shreveport High School and Shreveport General Hospital are fictional locations, or if they aren't, I wasn't aware of it when I wrote them into my story. Lemme know what you think.
In other news: I'm halfway through the next chapters of both OMDB and NC, so if you're a fan of my other stories, I promise I will update soon!!
Sookie's hair was always such a pain to brush when it was wet; she knew this and yet she couldn't bring herself to cut it off, so she sucked it up and always spent a good twenty minutes trying to untangle the golden strands before getting ready for bed. She glanced out of her window as she did, pausing as she caught the familiar figure wandering outside. Frowning, she hurried downstairs and out the door, her brush left abandoned on her bed.
"Hey!" She called, crossing the lawn dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.
"Hi," Eric looked up from where he was sitting in the middle of his driveway and scrambled to his feet, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh," Eric gestured towards his house but then seemed to change his mind, "Just needed to get some air."
"Is your dad drinking again?" She asked softly, knowing full well about Mr. Northman's drinking habits since his wife had passed away four years after they had moved to Shreveport.
"'Again'?" Eric chuckled bitterly, "He's an alcoholic, Sook. There is no 'again'. It's just how he always is."
Sookie nodded, "Have you eaten?"
He shook his head and shrugged, "It's fine. He'll pass out soon and I'll go back in."
"It's not fine. Come on, we had roast beef, and I feel like making a sandwich. Join me?"
"Sook, you don't-"
"Come on!" She took a hold of his hand and began leading him inside.
"Sook, what's going on?" Sookie's mom appeared at the top of the stairs once they were inside.
"Nothing, it's just Eric." That was all the explanation required for Mrs. Stackhouse: her daughter and the neighbour's son had spent far too much time together in their lives for this to be anything unusual, though it had become a rarity in the past few years. Eric called out "Hello" and then they set to make themselves roast beef sandwiches, Sookie's without tomatoes and Eric's without mayo. Having fulfilled this goal, the two went back outside, this time into the backyard. Sookie returned inside and emerged a moment later with two blankets, one of which she laid out on the grass. The two sat down and ate, mostly wordlessly, and when all remnants of their food was gone they lay down and stared up at the stars as they had done countless times as children.
"Don't be a blanket hog," Sookie grumbled, pulling the second blanket a little tighter around herself.
"I know you are, but what am I?" Eric mumbled (already half-asleep) and they both laughed, the sounds of their laughter reverberating in the dark loneliness of the suburbs.
***
"So, um, do you want to have sex?" Sookie asked casually, glancing up through her lashes at Eric. He dropped his pencil and bent down to pick it, studying Sookie curiously.
"What, now?"
Sookie shrugged despite the bolt of electricity running down her spine, "My parents won't be home until late; they're at some fundraiser. It doesn't have to mean anything." Eric continued to regard her uncertainly. "We don't have to, if you don't want to."
"Why?"
"Why... do I want to have sex with you?" Sookie guessed, unsure of what his question actually was. He nodded and Sookie shrugged again. "I don't know; I liked having sex with you and I guess I trust you. It doesn't have to mean anything." She repeated.
"You keep saying that!" Eric's calm demeanour was suddenly gone; replaced with irritation.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're angry about!"
Eric groaned and stood up from the couch, throwing his pencil unto his notebook and watching it roll off, falling once more onto the carpet. "No, Sookie, I don't want to have sex with you."
"Alright; that's all you had to say!" Sookie exclaimed, masterfully hiding her humiliation.
"You just keep fucking saying that it doesn't have to mean anything!"
She glared up at him, "What, you want strings attached?"
"Wh- Can't you see, Sook? With you, it didn't mean 'nothing' and it won't ever be just sex."
"What the hell does that mean?" Sookie stood up and took a step towards him, watching him still. "What, do you like me?" Eric looked away, scoffing. "Answer me."
"What does it matter?" He retorted defiantly.
"It matters if you feel the same way I do." Her voice softened and she had to bite her lip to hold back.
Eric shook his head, "No, it doesn't, because I can't ever give you what you want."
"And what exactly is that?"
"I won't ever be the perfect date or the perfect boyfriend. I won't show up at your window with a dozen roses on our anniversary, I won't carry your books for you and open doors and give up my seat. I'm not some fucking prince charming, Sook."
"Who asked you to be?!"
"You do!" He half-yelled, "Every time you look at me it's like you want me to declare my undying love for you, and I won't do that. I can't."
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity; until Sookie became painfully aware of how her hair brushed against her shoulder blades and just how she shifted her weight awkwardly as she stood, mere inches away from Eric.
"I'm tired tonight, Eric, can we finish this another time?" She asked finally, nodding at their splayed homework.
"Of course," He gathered his stuff, throwing them haphazardly into his backpack and hurrying out as if afraid she would lash out at him. He muttered goodbye and then he was gone. It wasn't until the sound of his footsteps on her front porch had faded that she realized his pencil was still lying underneath the coffee table. She left it there and sought refuge in her room, crawling under her comforter and pretending that nothing could touch her.
That night she cried herself to sleep because the boy she loved couldn't find it in himself to love her back.
***
By mid-December, Shreveport was the coldest it had been in three decades, despite the lack of snow. The wind blew threateningly, shaking the naked branches of the trees and the Christmas wreaths nailed to the doors.
By mid-December, Eric and Sookie had only spoken once.
Not for lack of trying, Sookie thought bitterly, wrapping her coat tighter around her as she hurried home. And not that she should even care anymore.
"Hey, want a ride?"
Sookie looked up to find Eric's beat-up Camaro cruising beside her. "Um, no thanks, I'm fine."
"Sookie, come on, you hate the cold. Let me give you a ride." Sookie bit her lip, but the freezing gust of wind at that exact moment made the decision for her.
"Alright," She sighed, throwing herself into the passenger seat. Eric sped up slightly, turning off the radio that had been playing until now.
"How've you been?" He asked.
"Fine."
"Alright," Eric glanced at her uncertainly, "Are you not talking to me now?"
"You know what, I changed my mind: pull over."
"What?"
"I'm not gonna do this with you, so just pull over."
"I'll stop talking." Eric responded meekly.
Sookie scowled and stared out the window. "You're a dick."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me."
"Yes, I did. That was very sudden."
"No, it was about six weeks in the making."
"Oh," Eric frowned. They were silent for a long time, neither one of them not knowing quite what to say.
"John asked me out today."
"John Quinn?" Eric's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.
Sookie nodded, but realized her head was turned away from Eric and he could not see her, "Yeah."
"Well, what did you say?"
"I said 'yes'," Sookie's face was a controlled mask, and she could see Eric's was the same.
Eric pressed the gas pedal a little harder than was entirely necessary, "Well, the fact that you have a date sure explains your sunny disposition."
Sookie tore her eyes away from the road and turned to glare at him, "Hey, you have no right to be sarcastic. You have no say in deciding who I should go out with."
"I know that." He sighed, "Does he make you happy?"
"I haven't given him a chance, yet. But I think he could."
"Well, I'm happy for you," He admitted reluctantly as he pulled into his driveway.
"Thank you." Sookie awkwardly ran her fingers up and down the straps of her backpack, "And thank you for the ride."
He nodded and paused, "Sook, I'm sorry."
She stopped with her hand on the door handle, "About what?"
"About hurting you," He began haltingly, "and the sex, and being a jerk to you." His words triggered something in her mind and she scrambled to get a grasp on the memory.
"You apologized to me at Amelia's party, too," Sookie mused, the memory flooding back. She remembered the way he had looked at her when he had called her his best friend, and how he was sorry about losing her. She also remembered the way he had held her later that night, the way his skin had felt against her, how beautiful he had been to her for that little while. She also remembered how comfortable it had been to be with him, and that jolted her back to the present.
"I don't regret the sex, I want you to know that." She looked him straight in the eye. "And I'm sorry, too. For a lot of things." With that last sentence she opened the door and got out of his car, hurrying across the lawn to her own home, desperate to take refuge inside.
***
Sookie let herself into the house a few weeks later, dropping her backpack by the door as she toed off her sneakers.
"Mom?" She called out, walking to the kitchen to check for the blinking red light on the answering machine: there were no messages. "Dad?" She checked the basement, and then hurried up the stairs to her parents' bedroom. The house was deserted. A quick check of the closet by the door revealed that her mother's purse and jacket were not wherever she was, and her usual black heels were on the shoe rack. Her dad's old sneakers, however, were gone. Frowning and fighting the growing uneasiness in the pit of her stomach, Sookie returned to the kitchen to use the phone, quickly dialling her dad's number. He responded just before her call was directed to his voicemail, sounding breathless and tired.
"Sook!"
"Dad, where are you?" She asked, picking up on the not-quite-right tone, "What's wrong?"
"Your mother had a heart attack," He informed her without any preamble, "I called the ambulance and they're running some tests on her right now."
"What!" She gasped, steadying herself by clutching at the counter, "When?"
Her dad took a moment to respond, and she could almost see him rubbing his eyes tiredly and running his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, "A couple of hours ago? She didn't want to drag you out of school."
"I'll be right there, okay?" Her eyes skimmed the room as if she could find a way to get across town through her kitchen, "I'm leaving right now."
"Okay. Thanks, Sook."
"Do you need me to bring anything?"
"No, just get yourself over here."
"Okay, I will. Love you, dad."
"Love you, too, Sook." Sookie hung up the phone and quickly found her purse, retrieving her wallet and cell phone from her backpack and throwing them in there before heading out, barely remembering to lock the front door. She ran across the lawn and had pressed the doorbell before she could give herself a chance to chicken out. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and the door was thrown open, Eric stepping forward with a beer in his hand.
"Hey," He raised an eyebrow and took her in, "Something wrong?" Doubt replaced his surprise.
"Um, yeah," Sookie rocked uncertainly on her feet, "Um, my mom had a heart attack and now I need to go to the hospital, and I know that we haven't talked in weeks but is there any way you could just take an hour out of your day and do me the favour of driving me there?" Reality chose to sink in at that moment and her eyes filled with tears. "Please?"
Eric's eyes widened and he disappeared inside. For a second, Sookie thought he was going to shut the door in her face but he emerged a moment later without the bottle, his car keys hanging from a finger. "Come on." She breathed a sigh of relief and trailed him to the dark green Camaro.
"Thank you so much," She muttered once she was had buckled her seat belt and he was pulling out of his driveway, "I know you don't owe me anything, and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't something important."
"Of course," He responded mildly, "Don't mention it. Is she going to be okay?"
Too late, Sookie realized she hadn't thought to ask, "I don't know. I was so shocked that I forgot to ask my dad."
"Is he with her right now?"
"Yeah," She looked out the window and noticed how fast Eric was driving, but she didn't complain.
"Are you okay?" He asked more quietly and she turned to look at him, surprised.
"I... I don't know. This isn't really about me, though, is it."
"Maybe not," Eric allowed, "Doesn't mean that how you feel doesn't matter, though."
Sookie gave him a long look, "No, I'm not okay. I'm terrified and helpless."
Eric looked sorry that he had pushed for a response, but he nodded and awkwardly patted her knee as they pulled up to the architectural monstrosity that was Shreveport General Hospital.