A/NI am so overwhelmed by the response to this story. I can only hope that I don't disappoint! I meant to have this chapter up about 12 hours ago, but, I've rewritten it like 20 times. For some reason, Eric kept coming off as whiny, and let's face it, that's just not him.

I was still sitting at my desk, going over the file and adding some notes about my new case on my laptop 2 ½ hours later when there was a knock on my door. I stood, straightened my blouse, and went to answer. There stood John Quinn, the head of security for Hope House. He was in charge of escorting all new residents to their first meeting with their case workers, and monitoring the home's many security cameras for any trouble. He was very good at his job, and was very respected by the rest of the staff. He also just happened to be the man I'd been dating since shortly after my arrival in Louisiana.

"Afternoon, Sookie." He took a step into my office and gestured for the man who'd been standing next to him to enter as well. "Mr. Northman, this is Miss Stackhouse, and she will be your case worker for the endurance of your stay here. You are to follow all instructions she gives you to the letter. Disobeying your case worker could result in the revocation of your parole." Quinn was all business. He was one of the main reasons case workers applied for employment here instead of at Faith House.

"Thank you, Quinn. Mr. Northman, please have a seat." I gestured for him to sit at a chair in front of my desk, which he did in silence, and I gave Quinn a small smile, he winked at me and left my office, shutting the door behind him.

As I moved back around my desk, I began taking in the sight of Eric Northman. He had to be at least 6'4", and had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He had a small amount of stubble on his chin, as if he hadn't shaved in a day or two. Before he was transported from the prison to Hope House, he was allowed to change into street clothes. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a deep green short-sleeve t-shirt and dark brown boots.

"Alright, Mr. Northman, let's get started. As Quinn told you, I am Sookie Stackhouse, and I will be your case worker here. You and I will meet on a daily basis for the next few weeks. Let's start with the general rules, shall we? While you are here at Hope House, you will be expected to follow these rules to the letter. We have a curfew of 8pm every evening, and you will be expected to be here by that time for a room check. The only exception to this is if it relates to employment, and it must be approved by me and confirmed with your employer beforehand. Between the hours of 9pm and 5am we are in lockdown here, which means, no one enters, no one leaves. Security personnel are here during those hours, and the 6 case workers rotate, having 2 on-duty every night. You will be required to find employment. Now, normally, you must have gained employment within 2 weeks, or risk getting sent back to prison. However, with the economy being the way it is, and the unemployment rates being so high, I'm a lot more lenient right now. As long as you can show that you've been putting forth an honest effort to get a job, I'll give you extra time. I'm assuming Quinn already showed you your personal sleeping quarters?" I waited for a moment while he simply gave a silent affirmative nod. "Good. Every resident here has their own private room, and we do not tolerate residents being in the rooms of others, for any reason. There are plenty of common areas around, so there is no need for it. There are 15 rooms total here, divided up into 5 areas with 3 rooms each. Each area has a bathroom assigned to it, with two shower stalls, two toilets and two sinks. All residents will be in charge of keeping their area bathroom cleaned at all times. If there is ever a maintenance or plumbing issue with your bathroom, you will need to report it to the front desk immediately. In addition to a bathroom, each area has a small kitchen area. Each resident has their own cabinet assigned to them for food storage, and if you feel the need to have your locked, we'd be more than happy to provide you with a combination lock. No food is to leave the kitchen and common areas. Drinks are the only food or beverage item allowed in individual bedrooms. There is to be no alcohol or drug use while you are in this facility. You will have no medications in your individual room, including over the counter. We have a medical office on the main floor, and have a registered nurse on duty 24 hours a day. If you need any type of over the counter medication, you will need to see the nurse about it. If at any point in time you are in need of prescription medications, those will be kept in my office, and you may get your daily dosage from me. If I am not available when you are to take your medication, security personnel will get it for you. As well as meeting with me on a daily basis, you will also have a group meeting twice weekly. You are required to attend all meetings, and be punctual. I won't force anyone to participate; however, I will not tolerate disruptions of any kind. If you don't want to talk, fine, don't. But you will not ridicule someone who does. Any questions?"

I will admit, most people at this point look overwhelmed and a little shocked. But, not Eric Northman. He just raised one eyebrow, looked at me and said, "Nope."

"Alright then. Let's get down to brass tax then. As you know, the state parole board has decided that you have been rehabilitated enough to begin to re-enter society. My job is to help make that a smooth transition. My number one goal is to ensure that you being out in the world again is not going to be a danger to others, or to yourself. I take this job very seriously. I work hard, and it's rare that I have a repeat offender. I will not hesitate to send you right back, though, if I feel you're dangerous. That being said, I don't like having people arrested. If I wanted to get people arrested, I would've been a cop. I'm not. I'm more interested in helping you in any way I can to make sure that you are able to go back to functioning in the real world. In order for me to best help you, I need for you to be completely honest with me. Anything that we discuss will be completely confidential. If at any time you feel you have questions, you can come and speak with me. I do have one other resident I'm working with right now, so, if you need to see me, please feel free to come to my office. There is a small red light just outside my office door. If, for some reason, I am not available to meet with you, that light will be on. I'd ask that you respect that. Just as I would not allow others to interrupt you when we're meeting, I wouldn't want you to do the same to anyone else."

I stood and grabbed a list from the top of my filing cabinet. "I have here a list of employers in the area who have been helping in assisting our residents to get back on their feet as far as employment goes. I can help you to find a good, decent job. Tell me, what was your occupation before your incarceration, Mr. Northman?"

"I owned and ran my own business."

"And after your incarceration, is this business still in your name?"

"Of course. What's mine is mine, nothing changes that." Smug idiot.

"And would working there again follow the current guidelines of your parole?"

"Well, considering that it's a bar and night club, I'd have to go with no on that."

"Listen, Northman, I suggest you reign that attitude right back in. Without my approval, you'll be headed straight back to prison for the remaining 2 years of your sentence. The world already has enough egotistical pricks in it; I won't be sending another one into it's midst." He smirked, and tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement of what I was telling him. Play nice, or go back to Angola.

"Now, that being said, why are you here?"

He gave a patronizing look, once again raising that eyebrow, as if to say, duh, isn't it obvious? "I'm here because the parole board told me to be."

"Sorry, wrong answer. Why are you here?" I could tell I'd thrown him off a little with this.

"I'm here because I don't want to be in prison any longer."

"Come on, Northman. I can tell that you're got a brain in there somewhere, use it. Why. Are. You. Here?"

I saw his eyes darken and his expression tighten slightly, and he said, "I'm here because I decided that the world would be a safer place without Drew Marshall in it." There we go, now he was headed in the right direction.

"And why is that?"

"Because the world is terrifying enough without having someone like him roaming free. Someone who thinks that their wants are the only thing that matters. Someone that thinks that just because he doesn't want to leave his car overnight in a bar parking lot, it's okay to jump behind the wheel, even after having single-handedly consumed a bottle and a half of Jim Beam."

"As opposed to someone who unloads ten bullets into a 22 year old boy's chest?"

"He deserved much worse than he got. He gave much worse than he got."

"Meaning what? He caused someone's death, and then someone caused his."

He was getting really angry now. He stood up so quickly that the chair he was sitting in fell backwards. "Because when I shot him I made certain that his death wasn't a prolonged experience. I aimed right for his heart so he would die as quickly as possible. Unlike what he did to my little girl, who suffered very much. My wife and my son were killed immediately, but my daughter was still alive when the ambulance showed up. It took 4 firemen 3 hours to cut her tiny body from the wreckage. She was awake and crying during the entire ordeal, only to die from blood loss ten minutes before they got her out. But because that asshole's daddy played golf with the Governor, he had his license suspended and had to do some community service and attend AA meetings." I saw his knuckles turn white as he gripped the edge of my desk, breathing heavily, looking as if he was trying very hard to calm himself down. He stood like that for a few brief moments, then returned his gaze to me, and said, "We're done here for now." Without a response from me, he walked to the door and exited my office.

I phone down to Quinn at the security post in the lobby and told him that Eric had left my office upset, and that I would come down and watch the security cameras with him to see how Eric reacted, but that I wanted Quinn to keep an eye on him until I got there, just in case. I picked back up the chair Eric had knocked over, and grabbed his file and a pen, and went to join Quinn at the security desk. When he saw me approach, he just raised his eyebrows and smiled lightly. "Another successful first meeting, huh?"