I.

Early February 2006

I looked at the caller ID before answering the call. Bill.

"Hello," I said quietly. I was sitting in their dark family room, watching a movie with Tara and JB.

"Sookie, how are you?" Bill said, sounding rather tense.

"Fine. I'm watching the movie 'V for Vendetta' with Tara and JB. Can I call you later?' I said softly.

In the background I heard Eric say, "Give me the phone. Leave me."

I cringed and suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to hang up. I resisted it.

"Sookie?" Eric's voice sounded tense, but it was softer than when he had been speaking to Bill.

I was silent for several seconds as I rose, gesturing to Tara that she shouldn't stop the DVD. I went outside on the back porch, into the chill night air.

"Eric?" I said in a cautious reply.

"I am under the impression that you are avoiding speaking to me. I have left you six messages, including one with the shifter and you have not returned my calls. You have not even returned a message from Pam. And yet you answer a call from Bill."

I was silent. As I'd gotten farther removed from the sheer terror phase of what I had been through, I'd made it through the shell-shocked phase and now I'd arrived at the anger phase. I was pretty much stuck in the anger phase. What could I say? Fuck you all for sending sweet but mindless Bubba to take care of me, and for everything that happened as a result of the half-assed protection I was supposed to be so grateful for? Your King's gratitude for my saving his life and yours is completely underwhelming me? You didn't come to rescue me when I was being tortured by sadistic fairies and Bill did and almost died, so I'll take his calls even if I'm avoiding anything but the ordinary at present because I'm so sick of all the supernatural savagery in the world? How about the simple and straightforward I don't want to deal with any of you and just want to be left alone? But I was my grandmother's well-brought up child…

"Well, I was expecting a call from someone and just had the phone right near me," I said quietly. It was true. I had asked Amelia to call me when she got back to New Orleans tonight. I was hoping she would. Because then it might mean that she wasn't totally blaming me for Tray's death and that our friendship wasn't at a terrible endpoint. That our friendship wasn't one more thing that was lost to me or that Neave and Lochlan and Breandan had managed to cut out of my life with their knives and razors and swords. My eyes smarted with tears I was too angry and too weary to cry.

Eric was silent on the other end of the line. Finally, he said,

"I'd like to see you, Lover. I'd like to speak with you in person. I can be at your house shortly. When will you be coming home?"

Why did it sound to me like that meant he was at Bill's house, using Bill's cell phone because he had checked out my house and found that I was not at home and figured that I might answer a call from Bill? I didn't want to talk. About what had happened, about us, about… anything. I wanted space. Distance. Silence.

"I can't tonight. I'm watching a movie with friends. I'm working tomorrow night. You can go to Merlotte's if you want. But tonight I'm busy. Actually, I need to go back inside. I'm missing the movie. I don't think I'll be going home tonight. I'm staying with my friends. So tomorrow's better."

Eric was silent on the other end, as if not quite sure what to say. Well, that was certainly a new experience. For both of us. I was sure he could tell I wasn't exactly being up front with him.

"Eric, I really need to go back inside because I'm getting cold. Tomorrow, then, right? Good night. Tell Bill I said good night, too," and then I simply hung up without waiting for an answer.

Time. Maybe I just needed more time. But would time really make things better? It had been a week since all of the dreadful events that had left my world in a shambles. Tomorrow I was starting back to work, since I really needed the money to stay within my budget, now that Amelia had moved out. As I sat back down on the couch, I got a text message from Amelia.

Arrived. Take care.

I felt utterly hollow inside. My grandfather's enemies had almost killed me, and Bill, and they had killed Claudine, Tray and Clancy, who were all dead because they had the misfortune of protecting me. They had probably ruined my friendship with Amelia. Plus, in one fell swoop I had lost three fifths of my family- Niall and Claude, who were returning forever to Faery, and Claudine, who was lost to the Summerlands. Jason and Hunter were all the family I had left. Jason was still not exactly over the fact that I had not told him about Niall for several months and that Niall wanted to know me and not him. And Hunter was a secret. I even felt bad about Crystal, who had been a victim first of my brother's friend Mel, but then ultimately of the sick fairy duo. I had never liked her, but she had been seven months pregnant with my brother's child. Claudine had probably been around five or six months pregnant. I so wanted children myself and couldn't imagine them dying with theirs. It was all simply horrifying. This was my life. And it was… horrifying.

I tried to get back into the movie, which was about making yourself immune to any type of fear, terror and abuse, whether psychological or physical, so that you could emerged unscathed from anything and be truly free. But it was just a movie. Whereas my life was too painful both emotionally and physically at present to even think about any kind of freedom. Since I had rescued Bill from being tortured by Lorena and now he'd, rather ironically, rescued me in the same sort of circumstance, I had to ask him sometime about the whole unscathed business. Because I really wasn't seeing how that was going to be possible. I was still healing, and between Eric's blood and my grandfather's healing kiss at our parting, there was at least some chance that I would not be permanently disfigured. I could firmly say that my bikini days appeared to be in the past unless I really wanted to flaunt my scars or have plastic surgery or something. But healing mentally, emotionally? That was going to be much harder. There were no kisses and no manner of blood that could fix those memories. Even if the physical scars actually faded, I was going to be left with those other ones for keeps.

Five minutes after I sat down I received a text message from Bill's cell phone number. I opened it with trepidation.

I didn't have a choice. He told me to call you. He is very upset that you are not returning his calls.

I felt conflicted but texted back,

I really can't deal with any of you right now. I want to be left alone. Sorry.

I didn't even care if Eric was the one who had sent the message from Bill's phone to see more of what my current mindset was. I was just too worn down by everything to care about bruised feelings. I had too many very real bruises of my own.

I still didn't understand why Eric hadn't come to help me when Neave and Lochlan were in the process of slicing me with knives and razors and biting flesh out of my thighs and hips and breasts. While they beat me, but just not senseless enough so I couldn't see and feel what they were doing to me. He had not come. Eric's blood had healed the bitten out parts to a large extent and most of the slashes and gouges. But it hadn't healed my mind. Even my great-grandfather's parting kiss hadn't. As the days passed, rather than feeling better mentally, I felt worse as I saw the grim looks of Sam, Bill, and even Claude when he came to say goodbye to me. Eric called me several times the first few nights, but did not visit after that second night when he gave me a bit more blood. After that second night I just stopped picking up, or returning, his calls. I was too depressed, I guess. Amelia left for New Orleans the day after Tray's funeral. She stopped in Lafayette to visit friends before returning home tonight. We had hardly spoken since Tray's death. I knew that even if she didn't directly blame me for what happened to him, that she thought that I had been the source of her sorrow. I could not disagree with her. Tray and Claudine had died because of me, had died protecting me. Even Clancy had. Bill had almost died. I couldn't deal with the fact that it just seemed like the cost of it all had been so high. Maybe too high. People talk about survivor's guilt. Well, it crushes you. I felt as if I had been in a fog those few days after Crystal's death and now, in retrospect, I questioned virtually everything I had done leading up to the fateful night when I had ultimately been the cause of three people's deaths. I had a feeling I would question for a long time to come. And I still wondered if Bill would survive, since he looked so very ill when I had seen him the day before yesterday.

I thought about talking to Eric about what had happened and the hollowness I felt inside just echoed even more. He hadn't come. I thought of that hour in that shack in Arkansas and all I could think of was that I would never forget two things. That it was possible to survive such horror, whether you even wanted to survive anymore or not, and that Eric hadn't come to save me when I was being bitten and practically flayed alive by two beings that could only be described as fiends.

"Tara, could I stay in your guestroom tonight? Would that be okay?"

She glanced over at me, almost puzzled.

"Are you okay? You look kind of upset." She looked at me more closely, with concern. I didn't reply. She reached over and stroked my arm. "Sure, you can stay with us, Sook. Don't you bother yourself. That accident really seems to have shaken you up, eh? You know you can stay with us as long as you want. You're gonna be fine."

Then she turned and went back to watching the movie. JB was holding her hand.

I envied her.

I didn't even notice exactly when Eric entered the bar. There was a 9 o'clock rush and we were packed. I was busy serving tables and I barely had enough strength back to be doing what I was doing. Sam had almost sent me home by 8 pm but I pleaded with him, pointing out that I really needed the money after missing a week of work and losing Amelia's contribution to the monthly expenses. He helped me by carrying my heavier trays.

I also didn't notice Eric entering because I didn't feel that usual warm and balmy verve through the bond. It was almost like it had been damaged ever since Neave and Lochlan had had their fun with me. Like it was worn out or worn down. Frayed at the edges. But at least it was clear they hadn't sliced up the bond entirely, since I felt an icy tension that was not just my own.

After speaking briefly with Sam and eyeing me as I worked delivering pitchers of beer and baskets of burgers, Eric sat at the bar rather than at my already packed station. I felt so edgy, as I felt him watching me carefully. He seemed to be talking to Sam, who finally called me over. After looking rather darkly at Eric, Sam said tersely that we could talk in his office. Eric rose and put his arm around my shoulders. Without even understanding why, I just tensed up.

"What about my tables Sam? Are you going to cover my tables and the bar?"

Sam looked at me and without even needing to catch Eric's eye said,

"Sure," he said with a smile. "What do you think I did while you were out, cher? I can get by just fine. Don't you worry. You go talk as long as you need to."

Eric guided me back to Sam's office for the talk I didn't want to be having. After closing the door, he pulled me gently into his arms and held me. I felt weak. After several moments he bent his head lower and tipped my chin up and kissed me for a long time. He combed his fingers through my ponytail and then cupped the back of my head in his hand. His head hung down, chin almost touching his chest, eyes closed. Then he kissed my forehead and rested his chin on the top of my head. I felt like I was numb.

After a few more minutes like that, he took my hand and walked toward Sam's desk and sat down, pulling me into his lap. Then he looked me in the eyes.

"I missed you, Lover."

"Well, you've only seen me a few times in the past three months. So it must not have been too bad." I internally chastised myself as the words left my lips. I was already so on edge and now I was acting like a word that rhymed with witch when it seemed he was trying, on some level, to act comforting. I was, it seemed, beyond comforting. Or maybe I just wouldn't let anyone comfort me.

I observed an ever so slight stiffening in his back.

"I would like to to talk to you about the night you were attacked. I told you I wanted to explain, once you were safe, why I was delayed. I wanted to be sure you understood why I couldn't come…"

I realized that I simply couldn't have this conversation. I couldn't bear it. There were things that I just didn't want to hear, didn't want to face. Eric's reasons were just one of the many. I had cost three people their lives, no matter how I looked at it. Almost four, considering Bill looked basically gray when I'd seen him three days before. And how did it all come about? I was supposed to be protected. But somehow it just seemed like that protection was little more than smoke and mirrors. The consequences of trusting that protection? People I knew had died for me. Died because of me. And I'd been carved up and bitten within an inch of my life. I was alive and three people were dead and gone. Eric's reasons didn't even matter. And I didn't want to hear some pack of excuses or regrets or apologies. Maybe too, no amount of protection could cover the cost of bad judgment. But still, I was angry about having received poor protection and at myself for trusting it.

"Look Eric, you guys are under no real obligation to take care of me, okay? Clancy said it. I'm not your kind. He was right. I still can't believe he died fighting for something he didn't even agree with. But anyway, I know it sounds all dramatic and nice, Vampire Kings granting their protection, being so 'yours' and all that shit, but really in the end, it was all just platitudes and dramatic gesture on Felipe's part. I get it. I can be grown up about it. I don't need you to come and hug me and try to make it all better. Because really, it's not something that you can fix other than what you've already tried to do, after the fact. The blood was fine. Generous even. You didn't let Breandan get me. And I'm square with Bill. I saved him from Lorena and he saved me from the fairy fiends. Other than everybody that died, we're all square. Okay?"

I tried to rise from his lap, but he held me in place and looked even tenser.

"Would you settle down. I want to explain some things to you. I want you to understand…"

"Understand what? Bubba was the best you could do when I asked for protection? Look, just… forget it." I somehow managed to extricate myself from his hold and rose. I guess he wasn't going to hold onto me too hard because I still had some sutures, and bruises. "But for the record, Tray was more useful than Bubba was, even if he got tricked, too. At least he had some sense he'd been tricked and compelled and poisoned. He left after telling me. At least I knew I wasn't really safe. Maybe the next time you guys think about offering to protect people, you should just hire Weres and not send Bubba. That way you don't even have to get put out at all or risk your people if it all goes south. And they're totally expendable to you right? Powerful, but not your kind. If they get killed you probably don't even have to pay up. Sounds like a plan. Better still, you guys should just skip the offers of protection. It's false security."

He looked at me as if stunned.

"Sookie, would you just sit and listen to me…"

"I don't want to talk. I don't want to listen. What I want is to get back to work. My area is packed. And I really need the tips."

I started to open the office door and faster than a lightening strike, he was at the door slamming it closed again and looking down at me. The look on his face was twisted with anger and with something that I just couldn't quite understand.

"I know you are angry, Sookie. I know you feel like I didn't take care of you. You don't have any idea what I did just to go fight and to keep you safe. I defied orders and had to put down something of a rebellion with my own people to go and fight for you. Bill went with Niall, then I came to defend you. I lost Clancy defending you. I felt everything. Everything that you endured. I tried to give you strength. And when I told you that you were killing me by saying that you didn't understand why I didn't come to you, I meant every word of it. You are mine. You have been grievously harmed and I understand your anger. And I am proud that you survived but I am not happy that you had to survive anything. I wanted to protect you. I…"

I cut him off with a wave of my hand in front of his face.

"Just stop. Stop. Listen, I'm sorry if I have caused you a lot of problems. You know, you told me once a year ago that I was so much trouble. Well, maybe I'm too much trouble, Eric. Maybe I should take a leaf from Niall's book and just say 'let's call it a day', okay? Maybe we should just call it quits. Whatever protection you guys all feel you owe me, you, Felipe, whoever, just forget it. The whole vampire marriage thing? The one I took being tricked into for the so-called added protection? Forget about it, Eric. Because I am. Just quit trying to help me. You've done quite enough. Just… leave me alone. What I really want is for all of you to just leave me alone. Frankly, the more I get protected, the more hurt I get. Claudine is the only one who ever managed to protect me for any length of time without getting me in even more trouble and I got her killed. Really… leave me alone."

His arm suddenly went slack on holding the door shut and without looking up to meet his eyes I opened the door and walked back out into the bar to serve my tables. I had the impression of his standing near the bar looking at me for several minutes and I felt twisted internal conflict from him and even from myself, but it faded away. I didn't see him leave. I would have cried if I'd had the luxury of the time to do so. But we were packed and I had no such luxury.

There were several Weres in my station but Sam wouldn't let me serve them. I caught them looking at me darkly. I vaguely knew that they were friends of Tray Dawson's. Clearly, they knew something about the truth of his passing from the dark and guarded looks that they gave me. I told Sam that I should be serving them but he just deflected me,

"I'll handle them, cher. Just keep on working the other tables. And if you need any help lifting trays just ask me. Just… take it easy."

Yep, I'd gotten Tray killed and they knew it. Sam was just trying to shield me from my new reality. I glanced back at the table with the Weres and wondered if I would ever be able to live and work the same way here in Bon Temps again. Even the local Weres disliked or distrusted me now? Really, I wondered what else could go possibly wrong in my life? I recounted, as I served my tables, all the many things that had happened to me in my twenty-six and a half years here. I had been molested as a child by my uncle, my parents had been murdered, my grandmother murdered, my cat killed, I had almost been murdered, plus I'd been beaten up multiple times, shot, staked, betrayed by my first lover in multiple ways, basically raped in the trunk of a car by the same betraying lover who was out of control, my house had been set on fire, I'd been attacked by an revenge-seeking vampire, attacked by a newly turned vampire, kidnapped, not once but twice, forced into a blood bond with a very old vampire, almost blown up, a vampire takeover had ended up on my own doorstep, and most recently I had been tortured by sadistic fairies. I was sure there was more I was forgetting but frankly, it was enough of a list just with all those things. I had almost been killed several times over, but this last time, with the fairies, well… it was just the limit of what I could take. My body had been beaten and sliced and bitten and flayed and I doubted any amount of vampire blood, fae magic and plastic surgery could put me completely right. And that wasn't even putting me right again in my heart and mind. Was this rock bottom? What if it wasn't? What if my life could get even worse?

I was reminded of something Eric had said to me a year ago, after I got shot. 'You must be living wrong.' Maybe he was right.

That night I went home to my empty house and sat in the dark in the living room. I fell asleep on the couch, wrapped up in my grandmother's old quilt.

The following morning, before even showering, I pulled a card down from the refrigerator door as I drank my coffee. I picked up the phone and dialed.

"Good morning, Agent Weiss? This is Sookie Stackhouse…"