Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 64 I Need to Love
NPOV
I have stayed out of his head tonight, though it is clear he is all over the place, and well he might be, he had not learned to appreciate he was in love, how is he going to deal with the grief that is threatening to overwhelm him?
Nevertheless I have shared my own pain with him in order to help him understand.
Sookie did not know about souls. I never had a chance to tell her. And because of that I was never able to tell her that Eric was her soul's mate. Yet my little ray, without knowing she could have a second chance, made the same choices I did. She gave him everything she could because all that she had was never going to be meant for anyone else.
She gave her life to save his.
I felt the moment her realisation dawned and she made that choice. And I may have inadvertently singed a few vampires. Surina was most gracious about it, but reparations will need to be made. Again.
Everything I have done, I have done to spare my little ray her Great Grandmother's fate. And mine.
Interrupting her intimate moment with the oily specimen. Forcing her into the arms of her stalker. Preventing him from fleeing hers. Protecting them while they came together.
Though I know it was not a failure, in the longest of terms, he does not.
His eyes are still boring into mine, seeking answers.
But for the moment I have lost my power of speech again. The way he is clutching her dying body to his is far too close to my own memories for comfort.
And I love my Great Granddaughter. Unconditionally. But unlike him I will never have her in my life again. Frankly I would quite like to punch him in the face for his lack of empathy.
I will not. I am civilised. My wife, Eildith, was very big on civilisation, and the progression of mine in particular.
I was looking forward to telling Sookie about her, explaining how similar they were.
Ungh. Thank the stars I am too old and too powerful to care how another will view my tears.
Time is slipping away. I do not know if this is possible. But it should be attempted. Her body is unharmed. She could return to it. He ought to be able to call her back. But I do not know for sure. I never had the option. I cannot help him. I do not know how. I am not even sure that I have faith that it will work.
But it is his faith I need. If he believes. If he desires it badly enough. We could both have her back.
"You can wait for her Eric. She will return to you."
"It will not be her." He objects.
"Yes, it will." I assure him. "She will not look the same, she will have a different life, different experiences, but it will still be her."
"I do not want that."
"I know. It is a bitter pill to swallow and a difficult concept to understand. But she will still be yours, just as you will remain hers."
He shakes his head, burying his face back in the hair at the nape of her neck.
"I do not want to be without her, I . . . ."
He pauses, drawing in a deep breath.
". . . . I am not sure . . . . I can complete . . . . the wait."
"There is another option." I begin carefully. "You could do as Godric did. Free your soul. Begin your new lives again, together, without the pain of waiting."
His whole body goes rigid and a growl rumbles deep in his chest.
"Surviving is the only thing I know how to do. I cannot, no matter how . . . . I cannot."
Since he is not watching me I permit myself a smirk. Of course he will not. Any more than I would have done. Not that I did not think about it a time or two. But I am a survivor too, and like his, my life matters to other people.
The silence stretches.
"She would not like it." He whispers finally.
"No." I agree quietly. "My wife would have been similarly disproving of such an approach. I am sure her soul would have found a way to seek mine out and beat it insensible."
He snorts.
False hope is a cruel thing and I hesitate over my next words.
"Eric. Her body is still here, she is still alive, there might be another way."
Slowly he looks up, rubbing his nose across her cheek as he does.
"You may be able to call her soul back to you, now, before it is too late."
Clearly he is not a man for false hope either as his face remains guarded.
"How?"
Ah.
"I am not sure."
He blinks at me.
"That is it?" He asks in a chillingly calm voice. "That is all you have?"
"Eric, Son, losing your temper now is counterproductive."
"Stop calling me son . . . ." He growls, setting her body gently on the bed and preparing to get up.
"Vampire!" I snap. "Will you let your emotions get the better of you or will you fight for her?"
He blinks again and takes a deep breath.
"I am sorry I do not have all the answers and do not know how to do this. Does that mean you will not try? Do you not love her enough? Am I mistaken in my assumption that you would do anything to bring her back to you if you were able?"
"No." He responds, voice tight.
There is a pause.
"What do I need to do?" He grinds out. Resolved, ready for the horror he may have to face to save her. Vampire are extremely gothic, primitive, in their approach and I can only guess at the arcane ritual, bloodletting and magic he is prepared to face for her.
Unfortunately it is not so simple as that. A few minutes of searing agony, bravely faced, a couple of incantations, and poof! All is right with the world.
He is not going to understand this, let alone like it . . . .
"You just have to love her enough."
EPOV
I curse in my native language.
I just have to love her enough?
He has noticed that I am vampire, I am certain of this.
Love?
She has insinuated herself into every facet of my life. Exactly where, I can accept now, I wanted and needed her to be. But love?
Will I lose her because I do not know how to love her? If I should . . . .
My body feels icy cold, even to me, and there is a sensation akin to panic racing through it. And though I do not need to breathe the feeling that I cannot, is deeply upsetting.
Sookie, help me.
"Help me . . . ."
My mindless plea does not, apparently, fall on deaf ears.
"Talk to her Eric. Tell her what you want. Make her feel it."
If I do not feel it . . . . how can I make her?
"Can she hear me?" I ask, stalling.
"I doubt it." He sighs.
"Then what is the point?" I demand.
"The point Eric is that words can be a focus for your emotions, if you tell her how you feel, how much you want her with you, her soul may be able to feel it."
I can tell her I love her, will do it gladly if it means she will return to me, but what if she, her soul, knows if it is not true? Why would she return to me then?
Nothing has changed. I would still fight and die for her. Give every last drop of blood in my body for her happiness, her safety. Give up my thousand year dedication to survival. My 'life' is truly nothing in comparison to hers. She is so young and it is too soon for her. It is not enough though, it cannot be, or she would be stirring in my arms already.
My life will not be meaningless without her. But it will be empty. Where once it seemed full, I now only remember it mainly as marking time.
Surely she can see the selfishness of my thoughts? That I want her back only so that I do not have to find a way to live without her? That is not love, that is not enough . . . .
"Sookie, please, I need you."
How ironic is it that I need her here to help me through this? No one else will be able to do so. Not that I need sympathy. I just need . . . .
"You do not terrify me anymore Sookie, I have faced that fear, am facing that fear. There is nothing you could do to me that is worse than losing you completely. I do not understand the concept of our souls being mated, I cannot believe that such a thing would force me to lose you, to wait for you to return. It has to mean something more, it has to . . . ."
I am going to fail . . . . I am not enough for her . . . . she should have let me die . . . . I cannot give her anything she needs . . . .
"Sookie . . . ." I can barely recognise my own voice now. "Come back to me. There is so much I want to show you, share with you. So much you should see. I will protect you better, I swear, you will never have to suffer again. Never."
This is not love, this is bargaining with the devil for your heart's desire.
I take no comfort from Niall's description of mated souls being reborn together. A foreign concept. Ephemeral. Another person could never be Sookie, never . . . .
"Sookie, why did you save me for this? How could you? It is not your way to make another suffer unnecessarily . . . . I l-l . . . . admire that about you. I always have. So brave, so honest."
Please, take me with you, I only want to be with you . . . . I do not want to be King . . . . the vampire I am responsible for can manage without me . . . . I know this . . . . but I cannot let go Sookie . . . . it is deeply ingrained in me . . . . help me choose . . . . decide for me . . . .
Why must you be so selfless? Why? You made me admire you, want you. You made me l-l-respect you. Desire your happiness above my own. You made me do all these things and now you are just going to leave me? Was that your plan, your wile, was I right all along? Are you laughing at me right now? Is my pain amusing to you?
My hold on her is so tight I am literally grinding her bones together. Hurting her. With a great effort of will I relax my grip, winding myself gently around her again. Idly wondering if the stream of bloody tears are weakening me, but not able to truly care.
Of course my pain is not amusing to her. I know her. She is an amazing woman. She would be horrified if she knew her gift to me had the potential to cause such suffering. To me, the undeserving one, to Niall, Pam, Herveaux, Thalia, Charles. Her clueless brother and unappreciative 'human' friends.
Of course she is not coming back. There are few here who warrant her presence. Are fit to give her what she needs. Many who would cause her pain simply because they can. Perhaps I can protect her best by letting her go?
The very idea is anathema to me.
Selfish I know. But I want her here. Where I can at least try to protect her, make her happy. This life has been miserable enough for her, what else might she have to endure until I can find her again?
I did not notice Niall withdraw but we are alone now. She and I.
I am doing best to put my wandering thoughts into words. If the bond were there I would fill it with the emotions I am feeling in the hope that one of them would prove to be correct, the one that can unlock the future for us.
I just wish . . . . wish, a very odd word for vampire . . . . that I knew how to make her, her soul, feel loved sufficiently to be prepared to return to me.
I hope . . . . hope with all my heart that what I feel for her is love . . . .
So many questions I should have asked that infuriating Fairy.
I am aware of the concept of love.
The mechanics. Lust. Attraction. I am dead, my brain cannot secrete any of the chemicals required for these. Attachment. Likewise. No children for us to protect, no chemicals.
Yet I feel, have always felt, these things for her.
Is that magic? Or simply love? Or is love the magic?
Argh! I am singularly ill-equipped to deal with this. She should be here to help me.
And I am going to lose the woman I l-l because she is not?
The sun has been here for a while now and despite the darkness of her room it wants to drag me to my 'proper' place, away from hers.
At least that is something I can fight, with every fibre of my being, however pointless.
The knowledge that time is running out for us is taking that sensation, the one akin to panic, and turning into something more tangible. Loss.
My breathing is still inextricably linked to every shallow gasp of hers. When that stops, I know now, in my own way, so will I. And that is inexplicably right. Because I realise, I think, no, I am certain, whatever the text book or romantic definition, that I love her . . . .
And though it is too little and too late I have just enough consciousness left to tell her.
"Sookie . . . . I love you . . . ."