A/N: Note that this chapter begins with Sookie so please be advised that some readers might find the contents disturbing. Disclaimer: credit for the letter portion of the story are works and publications of Charlene Harris.

Sookie

Chapter Thirty-Four

Earlier that day…

The nonstop drive did nothing to keep me attached to this world. When I arrived the house was empty, as I knew it would be. Eric was in California, and Abigail never worked while we were away. It was why I came here—no one would think to look for me. There were no sounds to be heard outside other than the silent hum of the cooling system and my sandals slapping against my heel as I walked. I've walked through this house a thousand times. Walking the halls with the knowledge of what I'd become made me feel like an intruder. After a quick stop in the kitchen I headed upstairs.

I stared into the room I'd chosen when I first arrived. I remembered the first time I'd laid eyes upon it. I remembered all the things that made me hate it, how it would never be comfortable to me, how I believed it to have been a cage. It was the furthest from the master quarters and from Eric. It was funny because that was how I felt now, so very far from Eric, so far from me, and so very far from human. He'd known all along, so he couldn't love me, could he?

Yet, he'd taken out the policy to insure I was taken care of and that couldn't be real either. It gave me solace. He was smart enough to beat me at my own game and I hadn't even known he was a player. I believed Eric loved me. I'd believed it with everything I had. Looking back now, I didn't know what I was thinking. He was over a thousand years old. Why or how did I ever think I stood a chance? Why did I ever think I could beat him at a game of deceit? I couldn't. He had his fun with me while he laughing at me in his head, and the sad truth was I deserved it.

Eric didn't love me. None of the happy memories were real and with this knowledge, all that was left me of simply crumbled to dust and drifted wafted away. I'd tainted them even before they'd made. I didn't want to believe this even though Eric firmly said he had never lied to me. I had no right to be hurt by this but I was; I was so not deserving of it but I'd wanted it so badly. When I'd felt like I'd earned it, it was something I knew I could count on, but it had never been truly earned and so I had nothing.

On my way to draw the circles to bind my Shadow Wraiths, I caught sight of the shoebox that Gran's letter. I owed her so much. With oddly steady hands I took the worn envelope and carefully opened it. The scrawl was familiar; it had been on grocery lists, phone messages, and reminders of stuff to do throughout my whole life. I began to read:

"Dear Sookie,

I think you'll find this, if anyone does. There's nowhere else I can leave it, and when I think you're ready I'll tell you where I put it…"

In her letter she explained it all; her desperate desire to be a mother, her knowledge she knew Fintan was other, her guilt at betraying her husband, and how we had all somehow made it worthwhile in the end. She never planned on hiding any of it from me. Even in death she'd wanted me to know the truth.

"…I hope you're not mad at me, or think worse of me. All God's children are sinners. At least my sinning led to a life for you and Jason and Hadley.

Adele Hale Stackhouse (Grandmother)"

Like Eric, Gran had been on the receiving end of anger she hadn't deserved. I wanted to cry but I had no more tears. It wasn't as though I felt nothing; I felt soulless, not guilty. I felt hollow, not numb. I tucked the letter gently back in its envelope, returned to my room, and drew the circles. They were wide so Lynx and Cypher wouldn't be in pain. Then I stepped inside them.

"Cypher, Lynx," I called, "Fall to my shadow."

They materialized on either side of me and I stepped out of the circles. They both dropped to their knees as if some unknown force was bearing down on them and their shadows pulled away from their physical forms and engulfed them. Their human forms were gone though they were still humanesque in their forms. They were just huge, standing close to ten feet. Their skin was black as tar and covered in scales that shone like polished marble but their hair was long and ghostly white, as were their eyes.

This world always had rules to balance otherworldly creatures. Vampires had sunlight and silver, fairies had iron, and Shadow Wraiths had sea salt. The only one who could free them was me and I wouldn't. They would never let me hurt myself any more than they would let someone else hurt me.

"It's okay," I said. "Don't fight."

They were hissing and snarling so viciously that I don't think they heard. I left them and walked into the en suite bathroom. I wondered if I would go to Hell. It was a definite possibility. Suicide is a sin. This was what I'd been taught in Bible study growing up. Adultery was as well along with a slew of other things I'd done, yet I didn't think you were sent to Hell because you chose to punish yourself and save someone else from your evil. I mean, God knew. He knew all the reasons behind the whats and whys. He might be a vengeful God, but he was also a merciful one. I didn't want His mercy, and I didn't want His understanding. I didn't deserve it, not after all the wrong I'd done. I just wanted it all to stop.

Settling into the tub, I thought about a time when this would have all seemed cowardly. Giving up was a fool's game. I was raised to fight till you couldn't fight anymore and I was done. As I settled into the cold hard tub I knew I wasn't worth fighting for. Ironically enough, when I was a kid I was so scared of dying. There was so little of my family left and then my parents were taken suddenly. I'd felt as if Death was out to get me, as if It was around every corner. After my parents died I sat in my room and didn't so much as run, or skip or take a detour. I didn't want to die then. Now I did.

There was no emotion in me as I held the razor poised over my left wrist. I waited for some fear or, adrenaline, but nothing came. The pain of slicing my wrist open didn't register. I watched the blood flow but didn't feel any need to make it stop. I felt nothing. After cutting my other wrist I just sat there trying to ignore the snarls of my guards.

"Lynx, Cypher," I said. "Simmer down."

They didn't. They continued their growling and I ignored them. The more blood I lost, the less I was able to register. To shut out the noise my guards were making, I looked around the bathroom. There was a mosaic tiled wall that formed the most intricate and beautiful pattern. I never saw her until now because I'd never cared to look; instead I'd longed for my claw foot tub every time I'd sat here in the past.

I looked at the tiles and the design popped out at me. The image wasn't a garden like I always thought, it was a woman. Her luxurious long hair was blonde spanning the colors of marigolds, lilies, and countless other yellow flowers I couldn't name. They wrapped around her, not covering her breasts but hiding them in plain sight. I stared at the image until my vision began to flicker and blur. I wondered who the blond haired woman was.

I saw the last two years. Physically my body responded to his with the predictable chemistry of paper and fire. That started what began chipping away at the wall and obscured my mission on vengeance.

During all of that, every time he'd taken me out of town with him, taken me out to eat, flew me on his back through whatever city we were in that night; all could have been pure. They could have been happy memories, but I never let myself completely have him or them. My misguided devotion to revenge had tainted everything.

I didn't start giving Eric all of me until recently and these past few months had been the best part of my life. It's kind of true what they say, at least in some sense. When you're facing death your life does flash before your eyes. For me, I didn't see a reel of twenty-six and a-half-years in fast forward; I saw Eric. I wished more than anything he could have loved me but the semblance was enough, and as the blood continued to gush from my wounds, I smiled.

~ooooo~

It was strange to be so sure you were dead only to wake up looking and feeling physically fine. I was in my room in my favorite t-shirt. Maybe it was all a bad dream. Maybe none of it had happened. No, it was real. I could taste the horror of it and I could feel the monster I'd become. Somehow, someway, someone had stopped me. I hadn't succeeded in freeing Eric from my cruelty.

It was as if thinking his name brought my eyes to where he was. He was as still as only a vampire could be. Eric was seated in a winged-back chair to my right side. He looked like he always did, beautiful in an ethereal way. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers clasped under his chin. I couldn't tell his facial expression because his slick blonde hair was a curtain shrouded around his face.

"Do you have any idea what you've put me through?" His voice was like I'd never heard it. I wanted to look at him so I could read the expression on his face, but shame and guilt kept my eyes glued to the wall.

"I'm sorry," I told him. It sounded like such paltry recompense for all the ways I'd wronged him but I had nothing else to say.

"Sorry? Sorry!" he snarled, rising slowly. "That is all you have to say to me? Fuck your sorry!"

He looked at me and those eyes of his weren't calm or probing. They were narrowed slits, and I could feel the anger rolling off him. The darkness seemed to swirl in the clouds and in the distance lightening lit the sky. He moved with all the grace and controlled fierceness of a predator on the hunt, a predator who was headed in my direction.

"After everything, after all we've been through, how could you!" he roared, his hair blew in the heavy wind as he was closer to the door than I. He wasn't walking; he was hovering slightly over the floor. Eric had never been more beautiful or more terrifying. "What you did was selfish, cowardly, and just plain stupid."

The wind was howling so fiercely the double doors of my balcony were ripped open and the curtains billowed in the night. The closer he got, the closer the zigzagging light show got to the house. It was happening so quickly the clap of thunder didn't seem to be able to keep up.

"You literally forced me to walk through hell and back," his fingers clenched and unclenched. The force of nature ripping the night sky apart followed the beat. Outside a tree was struck by lightning and caught fire. "And you think I deserve—"

My lip trembled and I fought my tears but I shook my head. "You don't deserve any of what—"

"Woman, so help me..." he growled.

I silenced myself not because I was scared but because I didn't want him to lose anymore control. He exhaled a breath he didn't need and the light fixtures in the room blazed for a moment and some of the bulbs shattered. Suddenly it all went quiet and that was more eerie than his show of rage. The light show outside stopped. After a few delayed claps of thunder, the wind died and the rain began. As the storm outside calmed so did Eric.

"Is it so terrible to find happiness in my arms?" he whispered, landing on the floor. His form was again a mask of cool. "What is it in me that you hate so?" he continued softly.

His anger I understood but not this. I didn't know what he was getting at. I couldn't stand to tell him another lie, so I told him the worst of who I was and what I'd done. In killing me he might find some peace.

"I wanted to kill you over him. You, over someone that…" Words failed me because just thinking of it made me want to vomit all over again. "That fact was what drove me every second I was with you."

I admitted it because he had to know. The words left my lips and I felt like just as scummy as Quinn should. Never in my life would I have thought myself capable of something so vile. It didn't matter that I couldn't do it when I had the chance. It didn't matter that I loved him now. Everything I had done before that love came about tainted the chances of anything good coming from it.

"I know," he said. "I knew it the moment I looked at you the next day. I felt it the first time we kissed. I felt the hesitation in your touch when we made love."

I looked up at him. Over time I'd grown to be able to read him at least a little and he looked like he was being honest. This didn't make any sense. He'd known all along that I wanted to hurt him. I'd been sure everything that led us here had been the both us locked in a game of duplicity.

"I don't understand," I told him sincerely.

He sighed. "I love you. It is a blessing and a curse but I will always love you. I wanted you to want me so much that I was willing to settle for the mere façade."

He'd known about Quinn. He had been playing me like I thought I'd been playing him. I stared at him in disbelief. His approval was something I never thought I would get in the beginning. To have earned it over time was better than I could have hoped for, but knowing he knew I'd been trying to deceive him confused me so very much.

"Why didn't you just tell me? I mean, I know you wanted to punish me but if you had told me I would killed him myself."

"I have told you before, though I don't think you believe me; I take no pleasure from your pain, I never have and never will." He looked out toward the clouded night sky as he continued. "I would have had to look you in the face and rip out your heart." He shook his head as if the thought was abhorrent to him. "Being angry with someone doesn't mean you still don't love them. You might have let me have my pound of flesh in the heat of that moment but you would have resented me always, so for me the choice was easy."

I hated to admit that he was right. Love and anger weren't mutually exclusive concepts, as he had pointed out so long ago.

"I could have killed you," I whispered horrified.

He shrugged. "You didn't," he replied, coming to sit on the side of the bed. "I showed you everything pertaining to my affairs and took out the policy because I do want you taken care of and I didn't want to wonder anymore. It…got harder and harder to endure with every passing day. Every time you touched me or smiled at me, every time we made love, I wanted it to be real. I would have rather gone to the true death with the semblance of your love than continued doubting you or accepting the truth it had never been."

He looked up at me, tormented, and the guilt of it, of knowing I had done that to him, solidified my belief that I didn't deserve him.

"Not all of it was real, not at first, but then I rested the day with you in my arms and that was how I woke. You told me you loved me and…" his voice faded and his face became stone cold. He looked unreachable. That was what he hid behind just asI hid behind anger.

"It had been different between us. We were better. I felt like you weren't just happier but that you'd also forgiven me."

Eric's face was still granite but the look in his eyes didn't change. He looked haunted, as if every moment of his thousand years was weighing on his soul. He was in pain. Once I would have reveled in that fact, but now, now I would do anything to take it away. There was nothing I could do but leave him because I was only a source of pain for him.

The room was silent for a few beats. Eric's hand didn't move from the line that he traced around the charm but he looked a million miles away. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to tell him I loved him but I knew it wouldn't make anything better. I remained quiet because I'd done enough. I'd lied, cheated, and hurt him. Nothing I could say would fix any of it.

Finally he abandoned the necklace and his hand rose towards my face, as if he was wary of making me shrink away, as if I could ever. His knuckles brushed my cheek in a touch that was barely there. It was so very gentle and had come to be so familiar. Once upon a time, this simple show of tenderness wasn't something I thought him capable of, but now I relished it. Over time it had become a source of comfort and happiness.

His voice was just as soft as his caress. "I don't know what else to do make you want to stay with me," he said. "But it doesn't matter anymore, I am willing to let you go now. I can be okay with that but not this, never this."

"I hurt you," I reminded him because he needed reminding.

"And I hurt you, badly," he replied. "And I am so very sorry."

I waved his apology aside. "I lied," I fired back, "I cheated with…" Words failed me. I couldn't believe I'd ever been so stupid.

"And I have forgiven you," he said. "I forgave you because it wasn't your fault, not really. I married you not caring you never wanted this, then I ignored you and pushed you away." He smiled; it was so tired and so very sincere. "We've both done our best to do the other the most harm."

He was right, at least in the last part of his statement. My marriage had been a lesson in heartbreak warfare, and I'd been the instigator who hid behind a mask of righteousness. I was so tired, I'd been so hurt, and I'd hurt him worse. The scars were all bared, still bleeding and raw but there was my husband, asking me to just move on.

We had done our best to make sure we did our worst. It felt like I'd fought a bloody war. It was a war that had lasted longer than I'd ever thought. I didn't even remember the cause. All that mattered was for some reason he had been branded the enemy and my cause was righteous so he was deserving of the acts of aggression be they direct, emotional, or mental. I just told myself he deserved it all. Everything was so wrong and so what he was offering was impossible.

Our past was too ugly, too battered, and much too broken. There was no going back or turning back time. The sad part was I wanted to, but I just didn't see how I could ever look him in the eye again. I didn't know how I could let him hold me or tell me he loved me when I knew I didn't deserve a fraction of it. I had begun this life with him branding him as a monster. That was no longer the case. It was me. I had counted us out before we even got started.

"We can't move past this," I said, with tears running down my face. "I love you Eric, with everything I am I love you, but I don't love me, I don't know me and I don't like me, not anymore and you deserve better than that, better than me."

Closing A/N: I'm curious to see if Sookie has begun her path to redemption with you lovely readers yet.