AN: This chapter is a continuation of the previous installment, but still can be read as a stand-alone story. All of these chapters are meant to be in the same universe, even though they don't directly flow from one to the next. Also, one part is still left after this, even though it says '5/5'. Enjoy!

Part 5/5:

Jason entered Merlotte's with Steve by his side, an awkward tension between the two. "So.. Uh.. I promised you a drink, didn't I?" Jason began walking towards the bar when he felt Steve's arm grip his shirt from behind. Jason turned his head back towards the vamp. "Something wrong?"

"No- umm... Can we sit at a booth?" Steve looked up, meeting Jason's gaze, "I... I needed to talk to someone... See someone... and I was hoping you might have a moment, Jason Stackhouse."

Jason paused for a second. "Well this was unexpected,"he thought. "Um yea. Sure... Look I'm gonna go grab us a few drinks. Find us a seat?" He nodded to Steve before heading to the bar.

When Jason found Steve sitting at a booth in the back, he wasn't exactly sure what to expect. He awkwardly leaned over the table, placing the 2 True Bloods and 3 beer bottles he was holding onto the table before sliding into the booth across from Steve. "Hey.. I wasn't sure what ya drank so I got a A pos and O neg..." Jason's voice drifted off into a mumble, Steve's face clutched in his hands, elbows on the table. "Are.. you okay?"

No response.

"Steve?"

Steve's hands slowly fell from his face as he sank back in his seat, a thin line of blood staining his right cheek. "I'm sorry," he spoke quietly and slowly, "Maybe this was a bad idea." He tentatively reached out for one of the True Bloods, easily uncapping it and raising it to his lips. "You're just too nice for your own good, Jason." He took a long drink, polishing off half of the bottle before setting it back down. He gazed down at the bottle, studying it intently. "I might need a few more of these before the night's over... I... haven't fed in days."

Jason did his best to listen to Steve's words, grabbing a beer off the table for himself. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his bottle opener. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his eyes kept wandering back to the streak of smeared blood on the vampires mind immediately jumped to the conclusion someone had hurt Steve- why else would a vampire be crying? Steve- the Steve he knew, was too strong to cry easily. Something bad must have happened.

"I just dont-" Steve began, only to be cut off by Jason.

"Who hurt you."

Steve paused, his face in slight shock as he sat up in his seat. "What?"

Jason took a sip of his beer before firmly setting it down and leaning across the table, closing the distance between the two men slightly. "I said... Who hurt you?" Jason paused hesitantly adding, "You're.. crying. It's blood- obviously- but I know when vamps cry it sure ain't normal tears. Be straight with me. Who."

Steve's abrupt laughter caused Jason to jump, the vampire locking eyes with Jason when he suddenly went quiet. "Do... you think I wanted to be.. like this, Jason?" Steve saw Jason hesitate, about to answer before adding, "Don't answer. It was a rhetorical question." A look of confusion wound its way into Jason's features. "That means it's not meant to have an answer," Steve continued on, smiling slightly at Jason's clueless ways. He sighed, taking another drawn out swig from his first bottle of synthetic blood, almost polishing it off. Jason simply stared at him, causing Steve to wonder just how badly he had smeared blood across his pale features. "As.. I was saying," Steve said, trying to find a way to best explain his recent anxiety to Jason, "I guess... I've just been struggling to... grasp... my current state still. Sure I tell the media I'm a proud christian vampire, and I act confident and friendly to the public. But Jason... I'm scared." He reached across the table, hesitantly grasping Jason's left hand that rested near the boy's drink, the former reverend's eyes suddenly finding his own lap intriguing as he refused to meet Jason's gaze. "I don't know what I'm doing... I mean... I was raised in the church to hate what I am now... I'm an outcast to the fellowship- a spawn of Satan... and the vampire community only wants me as a pretty face to calm humans. Nobody-" He paused, taking a shaky breath. "... Nobody wants me. It's... lonely." Another, fresh line of blood slid smoothy down Steve's features.

Jason's heart clenched as Steve's words, a sharp pain digging into his chest at Steve's words. The vampire had come off as so confident as both a human and vampire to the point he was considered cocky and quite frankly, a dick. Steve's confession had almost blindsided Jason- he felt he could relate. Maybe not to being a vampire, but definitely to the lonely, lost feeling that Steve was describing. When Arlene walked by there table, Jason reached out towards her, waving to grab her attention. "Hey! Arlene? Can you get us another 2 bottles of True Blood and uh.. A pitched of the house brew please?"

When Arlene nodded that she had the order down, Jason immediately turned his attention back to Steve, his left hand still in the vampire's slightly chilled grasp. "Sorry bout that," said Jason shyly, "was getting' us 'nother round. I figure we'll be needin' it." He shrugged slightly, leaning forward again to physically let Steve know he had his attention and could continue. Steve still refused to meet his eyes.

"It's just.. not only the- the rejection- and isolation... But I feel so conflicted. I've tried to live by the Bible still as a good solider of God, but the temptations- the urges... They're everywhere." Steve retracted his hand from Jason's, pulling both palms towards his face as he studied them intently. "Constantly testing me, my faith. It's unimaginably hard. Terrifying. I don't want... never wanted to be a monster." His eyes met Jason's.

Jason contemplated Steve's words, feeling sympathetic for the vampire who was unintentionally bringing back some memories Jason wished had stayed buried in the depths of Jason's inner thoughts. Moments such as when Jason was struggling with V- when he was in Hotshot- and when he realized his fame as a high school football star had ended... All moments where Jason had thought he had hit a low... When he was suspected of murder... Moments that terrified Jason and left him feeling isolated and alone. The thought swam vividly through his mind as he broke gaze with Steve, only to open his final bottle of beer. The cool liquid swam back his throat as Jason downed the entire bottle in one go. Anything to forget. Jason then sized up the pitcher still waiting patiently for him on the table, deciding to pour himself a glass with the cup Arlene had provided with the beer.

When Jason's gaze returned to Steve he noticed a hint of annoyance in the man's features, adding to the frown that had yet to leave his face. "Jason.. I don't mean to sound vain here so excuse me, but were you listening to me.. at all?" Another tear. It broke Jason's heart.

"E'ery Word, Newlin. You just had me think'n bout some times when I felt awfully similar, that's all." Jason's voice sounded weak, even to himself. He took a sip, testing the brew over his tastebuds as he spoke. "It ain't easy bein' an outcast, Steve. Trust me, I got some 'perience in that department. But you ain't a monster. You're Reverend Steve Newlin, newly appointed face of the Authority!" He did his best to sound happy for Steve, finding himself face to face with his glass, taking another lengthy sip.

Steve laughed slightly, though the frown remained. "Why do you still call me Reverend all the time? I haven't been a reverend since I was turned.. It's practically an oxymoron."

"Did you just call one of us a moron?"

Steve couldn't help it this time, breaking out into laughter as a smile graced his lips for the first time that evening. Even if Jason couldn't completely related, Steve was glad he could at least look to Jason for comfort, and with that came laughter. "Jason Stackhouse you sure are one of a kind."

Jason smiled.

Taking another drink, Jason finished off what remained of his beer, a light ring of foam gracing the edges of the glass. Butterflies. It was all Jason could comprehend- the current feeling in his stomach, that is. He wasn't sure if it was the number of beers he had had thus far, alcohol slowly seeping into his veins, or if it was the sound of Steve's laughter... But one thing was certain- Jason was having a wonderful evening with one Reverend Steve Newlin. "I guess I can't help it, ya know? I'm just so use to call'n you it after that camp of yours I went to." Jason poured himself another drink. "It's an ol' habit. Does it bother ya?"

Steve's smile was small, but thankfully still there. His shoulders relaxed at Jason's question, something else in his features that Jason couldn't make out. "No," he said softly, "I don't mind."

When nothing but silence met their ears, Steve chose to continue speaking. "It- It almost makes me feel human again, in a weird sort of way. As if I'm not damned and going to hell." He laughed slightly, and Jason could see another tear working its way onto Steve's face, which was quickly turning pink when the blood was smeared across it.

Without thinking, Jason reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bandana he carried with him. He reached across the table, motioning to run it across Steve's stained face. When he got close, however, Steve physically flinched in surprise, causing Jason to become aware of his actions and surroundings.

"Oh.. Uh.. Sorry Newlin. Just habit I guess. Always carry that 'case I need it... " Steve looked at him in confusion. "Usually I'm hand'n it to a girl though when I tell her I'm not lookin' for anything serious tho." Jason laughed at his own Joke, trying to ease some of the tension his actions had inevitably caused.

Jason had missed how Steve flinched as his words. "I'm not like one of those girls you take home, screw, then leave the next day, Jason Stackhouse." A slight anger and annoyance had snuck into Steve's words as he snatched the piece of cloth from Jason's hands, using it to gently clean his face. "But, thank you."

Jason proceeded to once again down his drink, blushing slightly at the notion of Steve being like one of the many nameless girls he had catered to sexually during his lifetime. Jason sighed as he set back down the glass, glancing at Steve before looking out the window. "I never intended for you to think that, Steve. I just... don't do well with the whole tears thing, regardless of who they belong to."

Steve's frown once again deepened at Jason's words. Boy was the young man oblivious, because Steve was quickly getting annoyed with Jason's ignorance at the situation. Yes, maybe he didn't want Jason to bring up the fact he was straight again, but he was at least hoping Jason would show some interest in him sexually. Jason's recent words had done nothing but add to Steve's current state of depression. Steve couldn't find it within himself however, to hate Jason, nor be pissed at him for his attempted consoling. The boy had tried and damn, he was still easy enough on the eyes that it more than compensated for his less than smooth way with words.

"Jason, do you think we could talk about something else? How's your job going? Anything new happen 'round here during daylight?" Steve did his best to change the subject, deciding that while he enjoyed Jason's company, he didn't need any reminders about Jason's sexual orientation at the moment.

Jason took the bait, and before Steve knew it, Merlotte's was closing for the night.

Across from Steve sat a very happy, very drunk Jason Stackhouse that had rambled on and gossiped the entire night about every other incident he'd dealt with in town since becoming a law officer. From what Steve could tell, Jason had finally found his place in society, and genuinely enjoyed his line of work.

Sam had walked over to their table only moments earlier, offering to give Jason a ride home so Steve could head out, but Steve politely declined explaining that he would be taking Jason home instead. Sam eyed him warily, but relented as he cleared off the remains of 2 pitchers of beer, in addition to several bottles. "Have a good night, but Lord help you, if you do anything to Sookie's brother, you best expect some trouble, Newlin." Sam didn't hesitate to verbalize his threat in front of Jason.

"Oh don't you worry Sam," said Jason , blatantly drunk, "Steve knows better. Hell he can't even get in my house!" Jason laughed at his own words as Sam smirked at Steve.

"I see... I'm closing up in five so get your asses home."

"Oh we will," Steve mumbled quietly to himself as he stood up from his seat, offering a hand to Jason.

Jason stared as Steve's hand as if had just sprouted antlers. "I don't need your hand- what am I? A lightweight?" Jason laughed again, motioning to get up, only to suddenly see the world spinning. A firm grip caught his arm, another hand resting on his back, slowly bringing him into a standing position. "Oh really now?"

Jason suddenly felt sick, the change in motion causing his countless beers to catch up with him. He gripped the backs of chairs as he slowly stumbled towards the doorway, his steps sluggish. "Okay. Maybe I could use a hand, Reverend."

The moment they were outside and the cool, night air hit Jason, he instantly felt slightly better.

"Do you want to get home fast?"

"Well sure, that's always n-" before the words left Jason's throat he suddenly felt himself lifted from the ground, Steve holding him bridal-style.

"I'll get your car for you later, for now let's get you home," Steve said to Jason, who, from what Jason could tell in his current state, was enjoying holding him just a bit too much. Thankfully, Steve was lucky that Jason simply nodded, still too drunk to put up much of a fight.

The trip was quick- no more than 20 seconds, tops, and much to Jason's surprise, he hadn't gotten motion sickness from the break-neck speed Steve ran at. Or at least, badly motion sick. His head was spinning, but he had yet to puke, which in Jason's book meant he wasn't sick. When they arrived at Jason's door, Steve hesitated, slowly bending his knees to gently place Jason back on the ground. The moment Jason's feet hit the ground, however, he stumbled forward and collapsed.

"Guess I'm still drunk." He laughed to himself as he stared at the dirt, his hands catching his fall.

Steve grimaced at the situation. Once again, he felt as if God was testing him. Here was the man of his dreams, drunk as a skunk, and vulnerable as hell. And he knew he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of the situation, even if it would be so easy. "He's just so helpless right now... I bet I could take him and he might not even remember!" Tempting thoughts flooded Steve's brain as an intoxicated Jason Stackhouse sat in the dirt smiling at him, not even noticing when Steve's fangs appeared. Steve reached forward to pick up Jason again, this time pulling his body up entirely until the man's frame rested against his. "So close. I could glamor him into letting me in, and he wouldn't have to remember any of it." Steve took a deep, unnecessary breath, breathing in Jason's scent as he let his imagination go wild. He could slowly feel himself getting aroused, however, Jason killed the mood when Steve felt the human shaking in his arms. When he pulled away Jason slightly, he noticed Jason's eyes were damp. Any and all thoughts of taking Jason were killed and Steve immediately felt ashamed, having let his vampire side take over, and get the better of him once again. He had almost lost control, something he knew he would have regretted later.

Steve motioned further to push Jason towards the door, taken back by the man's sudden emotional state. "Jason... You're home now. It's probably best you go inside and rest up." Steve noticed Jason was gripping part of his shirt, his polo, likely wrinkled in the morning.

Jason nodded, but didn't let go.

Steve sighed, smiling slightly at the attention, however little it was. "You need to let go in order to do that, Stackhouse."

Jason turned, glancing at his doorway before turning back to Steve. "Stay with me?" He knew it was a long-shot to ask, but he couldn't help but suddenly feel overwhelmed with loneliness, moments of their conversation from the night mingling with the alcohol, creating an unexpected blanket of depression.

Steve was slightly shocked by Jason's words, but blew it off. "I really don't think you want that Jason. Now I know you did me a favor of talking with me tonight- and I really appreciate that, but you can stop playing around now and head to bed." Steve grabbed Jason's hand, gently pulling it from his shirt until the boy gave up. He then grabbed Jason's shoulders, using them to turn him towards his house, aware from a vampire who was currently, definitely, feeling temptation creep back into his dead, cold veins.

Jason frowned, reaching for his door handle. "That... was an invite," he said quietly, as he rested his body weight on the door frame, swinging open his screen door and then front door shortly after. He could have sworn he heard a gasp, though he figured it was his ears playing tricks on him. (Everyone knew vampires didn't breath air. That meant they didn't gasp, right?) He had only whispered his last words, but it had to have been more than loud enough for a vampire to hear. Whether or not it had been a good idea, basically inviting a vampire into his house- well, Jason had yet to comprehend that, still woozy from a night of one too many beers. What shocked him, however, is that when Jason turned around in the door way, one hand still gripping the door frame for support, Steve was gone.

"Fuck it. Always alone," though Jason as he wandered over to his couch, collapsing on it face first and successfully passing out for the rest of the night.