Summary: In a world where Uncle Bartlett went too far, Sookie Stackhouse decides to embrace herself rather than bend to the townfolk's perception of normal. Years later, she saves a dense vampire from two drainers. Slowburn Sookie/Eric.
After dampening Eric's blonde hair to the darkened color of tarnished gold, Sookie perused a selection of her shampoos. She used a wickedly sweet scented shampoo, like roses and wildflowers with the hint of sharp citrus to it but that would obviously be unacceptable, despite her amusement over the idea.
Eric cracked a cool blue eye open, catching sight of her amusement expression. His broad impressive shoulders glistened with droplets of water, and his hair was plasted to his scalp and neck. Despite his relaxed posture, there was still a hardness in his face.
"No flowers," he commanded darkly.
"Vikings don't like flowers?" Sookie asked with a smirk that widened into a grin when she couldn't contain her light-heartedness any longer.
Eric didn't dignify that with a response, simply looked at her with intense eyes before closing them again. In the end, Sookie selected a mature and netural scent that smelled creamy and expensive. She returned to her seat behind Eric and squeezed a small amount of silky white shampoo into her palm.
Sookie rubbed it into his scalp in small circles, a comforting force working in her fingers. He stiffened at the first touch, so much power coiling in his form, and remained tense for the next several before he began to slowly relax, even enjoy her attentions. She squeezed more shampoo onto her palm before lathering the product in his hair from root to tip.
His darkened blone hair was soft and silky sliding through her fingers, foaming bubbles welling through the gaps between each finger. Her tension and wariness ebbed away, and was replaced by a soft peace unknown to her. She liked doing this for him, and he liked her doing it.
By the time she washed the shampoo from his hair, cupping the warm water with her hands, feeling a violent jolt as the edge of her fingers brushed his bare shoulder, he had changed. Eric's expression was always hard and stony, like unmoving marble, like the blade of a weapon.
Sookie felt her stomach jolt and her heart clench when she looked down at him in her bathtub. He was beautiful in a new way. His mouth was soft, pink and relaxed from its hard line. His brow was smooth and untroubled, his eyes were closed, his expression was smooth and at ease rather than rough and guarded, taut with a harsh perpetual anger.
If he was human, he could have been sleeping.
He didn't look like a Viking or a vampire or the murderer and lover of many. For the first time since she had met him, Eric looked like a thirty-year-old man. It was oddly staggering to see.
The music continued to play, soft and beautiful, flowing into the air like a siren song.
"What language is this?" Sookie asked quietly. She squeezed conditioner onto her palm.
"Old Swedish," Eric answered in a low voice. "It's really quite beautiful..."
His voice trailed off as she began to massage the conditioner into his hair. A low, dark sound rumbled in Eric's chest, too harsh and growling to be described as a purr. Sookie grinned, amused by the thought of the Shrieff of Area Five purring like Tina under her hands.
It took a moment for the blonde telepath to realize the hidden warmth in her chest and identify it. Fondness.
Sookie frowned at the realization, a seed of displeasure rising in her mind. Her hands continued to lather the conditioner into his hair as she thought. He must have killed thousands over so many years and he would kill thousands more.
To her irritation but not surprise, Sookie wasn't instantly horrorstruck by what she already knew. It was a remote concept that she'd been aware of since first laying eyes on the man. She wasn't naive or stupid. She knew how dangerous and morally gray liking Eric was, let alone feeling fond of the blonde Viking vampire.
But as long as she didn't suddenly turn into one of those simpering girls and forget that he was still a homicidal vampire, Sookie could deal with it. Almost like an adult too. Gee whiz!
"It's beautiful anyway," Sookie said finally, settling back into her usual good humor with grace. Eric grunted lowly in agreement, that dark purr rumbling in his chest as she continued to massage his scalp.
Sookie liked that noise - the low tone of it and the unconscious pleasure it signified. It was rough and unexpectedly sexy, sending small sparks down her spine that twirled low in her stomach and throbbed. She felt relaxed and pleased, reluctant to finish her job but reality was a pressing matter.
Cupping the warm water in her hands, she carefully rinsed the conditioner out of his hair, wet silky strands sliding through her fingers, until she was sure all the product was gone and then once more for luck. Sookie shifted in her perch on the counter, leg muscles shifting and readying to move, but Eric was far faster.
The water splashed against the edges of the tub as the blonde vampire twisted onto his knees and around to face her in one swift smooth movement. Sookie's head snapped towards him, but her eyes flitted downwards of their own accord. Lust crackled in her lower stomach like an bolt of lightning, flaring up wildly, shooting sparks recklessly through her body, and she felt her pulse speeding up, a throb between her legs.
Water rolled and poured down Eric's exquisite chest, creamy pale skin darkened to almost peach by the moisture. His stomach was made of hard defined muscle which showed clearly under his skin that ruthlessly demanded attention and admiration. Steam rose off his skin, there was a tiny freckle on the side of his ribcage. A small stream of water gushed down his chest, over his belly button, and down the trail of dark golden hair, to -
Sookie forced her eyes up before she could see anymore, beating the urge to peek into submission.
It would only be fair, considering he was practically inviting her to look and they'd had actual conversatons about her cleavage before, but self-control? So not one of Sookie's strong points. Best not to tempt herself further.
"Allow me to return the favour," Eric rumbled, his eyes were dark and hazy with pleasure. He reached out and touched her just where her hair met her temple, skin warmed by the water. The sparks of lust catapolted recklessly around her stomach, increasing almost painfully as he moved his hand, callus' catching lightly, intimately, on her hair.
She thought about how laughably easy it would be for him to crush her skull like this but she felt no fear or wariness. He found her useful. He was here for a reason. He had purred under her touch, and she knew he would have stopped instantly if he'd had any idea about it. Even now, his hand moved down her golden braid instead of crushing her skull.
It felt nice, a mere taste of what he wanted to do to her.
His blue eyes burned into hers urgingly, dark with animal lust and hard want, all for her. Sookie looked back at him boldly, that wicked light of mischief dancing through her eyes like fireflies, and fearlessly, she grinned.
"Mm. I'd rather you just owed me," she said, making it clear in tone that she was joking.
Sookie ducked under his arm, hearing the faint sound of a rough chuckle, and rose to her feet, facing him. Her knee wanted to buckle at the heat remaining in his eyes but she held herself, eyebrow quirked upwards. And then Eric rose from the bathtub, stepping out, reaching his towering height, making no move to cover himself.
The crackling lust in her body flared up wildly as she struggled to keep their eyes connected, seeing brutal lust and hunger and wicked amusement in his cool blue gaze. She felt herself smiling at him, despite the throbbing heat between her legs and the unsteady beat of her heart.
"Tease," Sookie declared ironically, arching her eyebrow at him to include him in the joke. She reached over to her side, eyes locked on his, and grabbed a towel from the rack. Stepping closer, she wrapped the soft white towel around his hips, covering his bare skin.
The slick wet muscles of Eric's chest shifted as she secured the towel at his waist, and his head lowered, close enough for him to scent her. Her stomach clenched a little but she didn't step back.
"I have no use for teasing," Eric told her starkly, a dark rumble - the promise of pleasure - in his voice.
"But you enjoy it," Sookie said knowingly, half smile curving her lips.
Golden hair slicked back, naked but for the towel around his hips, Eric smirked. "As do you."
Sookie laughed, a bright smile lingering at her mouth. "Yeah, I'm kind of a terrible human being, aren't I?"
Despite their proximity, Eric prowled closer still to her. "Your humanity is up for debate. I sincerely doubt you have much human blood in you. You do not smell nor act like most human beings I have encountered."
Sookie thought about that for a moment. Her feelings were conflicted. Despite everything, it would feel like a loss if she did have little human blood. Not for the obvious reason of having believed herself to be human for fourteen years.
Jason remembered mama giving birth to her quite vividly, so if she was half something else, then her daddy wasn't her daddy. Jason would be her half-brother. Gran and Hadley and Aunt Lydia (and Bartlett) would have no actual relation to her. Blood wasn't everything but it was something.
Gran would've loved her no matter what, and Jason would still be her dumbass, drug addicted brother who, though clueless, loved her just as much as she loved him. That was something, too.
"I think you're just saying that because you like me," Sookie said in a flirtatious tone.
As always, there was a light note to her voice, speaking of her lack of seriousness, but there was a miniscule shift in Eric's expression. A tiny explosion rocked through Sookie's head, one she barely kept off her face. It seemed like she wasn't the only one suffering from unwanted feelings towards a sarcastic blonde. If Eric suspected she knew, his reaction would be unpleasant.
Whenever he couldn't avoid direct contact with her, he would be cold and harsh. She liked their banter and mockery. No one reacted to her like Eric did. She would miss their interactions. He was smart and sardonic, unlike most of the people she knew.
It was time to play Blonder Than Thou.
Smirk clinging to her lips as though she hadn't noticed a thing, Sookie shifted to his side and pulled the plug from the bath. Placing the plug aside, she straightened up, shaking her wet hand slightly.
"I have a favour to ask of you," Eric said, gaze drilling into her skin in a way that made her spine tingle.
Very few people would manage to thrill and chill someone in a white towel, dripping wet, but Eric Northman was one of those people.
The view was amazingly distracting.
"As a telepath," she fluttered her eyelashes dramatically, "Or as a woman?"
Eric smirked in amusement, a wicked glint in his eyes - she could almost hear the smoothly delivered retort - but his amusement was brief. His eyes drew dark and endless. It was an unnerving look made from a hot rage crystallized into ice. The restraint that took was far more lethal than a hot-blooded rage was.
A wildly furious man acted with reckless abandon. A man in control acted rationally and intelligently.
Eric inflinced his head before turning around and walking into her bedroom. Sookie followed him, taking a seat on the edge of her bed with a small bounce. Eric remained standing and began to pace across her bedroom floor before her.
"It was brought to my attention tonight that sixty thousand dollars has gone missing from Fangtasia's books. I suspect one of the humans working for me is responsible."
Sookie's emotions focused abruptly, surprise lighting her face. She looked at Eric's unreadable expression, sensing rather than seeing his bloodthirsty rage behind the flawless mask he wore. He was serious. Someone had actually stolen from the muscular, thousand year old vampire shrieff.
Jesus Christ.
"And that was the sound of my faith in any kind of intelligent life shattering," Sookie remarked without any true playfulness in her voice. There was nothing amusing about what Eric would do to whoever had been stupid enough to steal from him.
A shiver writhed up her spine, stomach dropping slightly, and she thought briefly of Gran, the woman she loved with her whole heart.
"How do you know this wonderful example of Darwinism is even human?" Sookie wondered.
Stopping, Eric's gaze turned slowly to her, eyes locking on her form. "I only have one vampire in my establishment," he stated. Sookie arched her eyebrows at him, distinctly remembering two others. "Pam has no need to steal from me. Longshadow is a possiblity but a highly unlikely one."
"Because he's a vampire?"
Eric stiffened, ice hardening in his eyes. "Do not take me for a fool, my tiny human," he said in a low dangerous voice.
Sookie leaned back down on the bed, supporting herself with her arms, one smooth tanned leg cross over the other. "Or because he knows what you would do to him for this?"
Eric nodded shallowly, ice thawing in his gaze. Sookie hesitated for a few moments, tilting her head back in thought. A tension moved through her body, vice-like around her intestines. Compassion was a killer.
"I haven't looked at the contract yet," Sookie said. She straightened up and looked at Eric with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Eric looked at her with an echoing sobriety, taking notice of her. "But I have to insist on one condition - nobody gets chowed down on, snicker-snapped or otherwise injured."
Eric's eyes sharpened and intensified with fascination, like a large lion spotting its prey. "You wish for me to turn the thief into the authorities, I presume?"
"And whoever else's mind you might need me to read in the future," Sookie said in a clear, steady voice.
"And if I refuse?" Eric tested, fascination lingering in his vividly blue eyes.
"You'll have to find a way around whatever is stopping you from glamouring these people," Sookie replied frankly.
"Human minds are so steeped in fear and denial that glamouring is not always...effective," Eric told her, a note of distaste crinkling in his rumbling voice. "Humans break so easily."
Though she wished too, Sookie couldn't argue with that. She had witnessed the growing chaos inside of people before, and she'd experienced it herself. It was so easy to break or bend, like falling down a hole, numb and careless to everything. So much easier than deciding to pick yourself up again and keep fighting the hopeless battle until something - finally - gives.
It had been years since she started fight. Some days, it seemed like she would never stop.
"I don't," Sookie reminded him quietly. Gran hadn't.
"No, you don't," Eric agreed in a low gravelly voice. His gaze moved from her for a moment, full of thought, before he gave a stiff nod. "Alright. Why not?"
Sookie smiled slightly, relief swelling through her before falling abruptly. "Do you know a woman called Maryann? Looks kind of like a crazy upper class hippie?"
Eric canted his head to the side and studied her with an almost discomforting intensity. "No."
"I got this weird sense from her," Sookie explained. Maryann was the least of her problems but she was trying to figure out a way to explain what happened at the bar tonight to Eric. He would need to know, that was only common sense. "Like she wasn't quite human."
Eric considered this for a moment. "I will look into it," he promised in his dark flowing voice. "Most supernatural beings are wise enough to check in with the Shrieff of their Area but some are too arrogant to consider it."
Sookie went to ask how many other supernatural creatures were actually out there because Tray Dawson had never been able to give her a straight answer - his status in the Monroe pack prevented him for spilling too much information to her. Before telling her anything, he had needed to check with his packmaster, a female werewolf called Anne, and then introduce the telepath to the whole pack.
Which was a level of awkwardness still unmatched by any other conversation in her life.
Werewolves weren't looked upon fondly by the rest of the supernatural community, so it was likely Eric had far more respect and power than Anne. Even Anne was to be informed of any new werewolves in her area.
"While we're on the subject of areas, I hear you have three new vampires in yours," Sookie said bluntly.
Eric stilled, thoughts racing through his mind with the calm of rationality and the haste of intense concern. Malcolm, Liam and Diane were known to be sadistic to the point of unforgivable idiocy. Sookie was a golden prize with her scent and her lusciously curved figure, a tasty beauty with wickedness in her eyes and foolish bravery shooting out of her mouth unflinchingly.
It was a terrible combination.
If Sookie caught the eye of those three and cheerfully offended them as was her way, she would be in danger.
They would have be killed, Eric decided without a single hesitation.
Any threats to Sookie Stackhouse would not be tolerated. Though she protested his protection against the killer haunting Bon Temps, she would accept his aid with this. He had hired two wolves to keep an eye on her starting tomorrow, as she had allowed the night of her grandmother's death, but werewolves would be inept against three vampires.
Malcolm was some centuries his junior but he was a greasy one. The other two were simpering wastes of blood, drunk on arrogance. It was a marvel his tiny human was alive, no matter how much of a delightfully sarcastic spitfire she was. But her golden skin was unmarred and lovely as ever. There had to be a reason for that.
Perhaps Compton was actually capable of being useful?
Eric doubted it.
It was more likely his spitfire had been clever.
The high probablity of that was almost enough to make him feel proud of Sookie, but his anger was stronger, raging through him like fire but with the staying power of ice.
"Oh, my dearest darling," Sookie quipped with her uncanny insight into his emotions. She was smiling sardonically, a glint in her dark eyes, when he looked at her. "Just wait, it gets worse. Guess where I was."
His anger swelled in the pit of his stomach. "The shifter's bar."
His tiny human seemed taken aback by his lack of coddling for a split second before a spark of approval flared in her dark eyes. Another of her admirable qualities - she did not want nor expect to be treated gently.
"Well, technically, my bar until Sam wakes up," Sookie told him, moving her head in a way that made her long blonde hair fall over her face. "But you can have a golden star, anyway."
She was managing the dog's bar rather than collapsing into despair. None of it surprised Eric. She was the type to act rather than wallow. "What damage was sustained?"
"No one died, nothing was broken, but it was quite a scene. The locals are freaked to all hell and indulging in some xenophobic ranting but really, this is the South, so they do fulfill that stereotype pretty much all of the goddamn time."
Excellent. The disturbance would give him cause to haul the three idiotic vampires before the Magister. Despite the Magister's low opinion of (supposed) humans, his dedication to the Authority would take the three off his hands and into a coffin chained with silver.
"They will be taken care of," Eric stated coldly.
There was menace on Eric's handsome face, dark and foreboding. It was not a grand evil, all froth and no actual product, but a far more worrying understated threat, like a knife concealed up a beautiful man's sleeve. Though Eric did not need a knife, and he was currently managing to both unnerve and distract her while wearing one of her towels around his hips.
His eyes were cold but his face was difficult to read beyond that sense of danger and intense power that he carried effortlessly around with him.
Her face, on the other hand, was open - and a broad smile curved her lips, a small laugh spilling from her mouth. "Are you going to put a horse's head in their coffins?"
Eric looked at her, reading the amusement off her face and the glow in her eyes. Before Sookie could draw in another breath, he zipped across the room and sat very, very close to her. She had the feeling he wanted to push her down onto the bed and pin her there with his weight but she was glad he decided against it.
Not many people survived kicking Eric Northman in the balls, Sookie thought wryly.
His eyes cut cleanly into her flesh, striking down to the bone - far more effective than any of the scare tatics she would laugh off. But his crushing intensity wasn't enough to make her falter even a little.
"How did you escape them?" Eric asked, a bored undercurrent of demand in his voice. Clearly, his towel was in a twist.
"Hmm," she sounded flippantly. "Dropped your name once or twice, snarked more than once or twice, then I won a staring contest."
Eric went very, very still. His eyes burned, closer to silver than blue in that moment. The intensity wasn't angry but it was fierce. "Explain," he said in a rough voice.
"That was pretty much it," Sookie told Eric, studying his expression for signs of violence which was at odds with her careless voice, and quirked eyebrow. "They came, you called, I glared - they ran away like a pack of five-year-old girls."
Eric drilled into her with his eyes. His face was locked down tightly, not a single indication of anything coming off him. But Sookie recognized that expression very well from when he had kissed her. His pupils were dilated, darkened with hunger and lust.
Her heart stuttered, her stomach clenched, and the dim buzz of electricity in her lower gut amped up into full voltage. She could tell he wanted to kiss her but Eric seemed to restrain himself, though his eyes remained dark as did his voice, which scrapped over her skin and left chills in its wake. "You would make an exceptional vampire."
Sookie was sharp enough to read the tone of his voice. It wasn't a suggestion or a threat. It was Eric's way of complimenting her - and rather highly, at that. But still, it wasn't something she had ever wanted.
Sookie shared her love of sunshine with Gran, spending many mornings gardening with the older woman or cooking human food with her while Jason waited impatiently and chugged down glasses of sweet tea. She'd used to mock the stereotype they represented, but now, she would give anything to go back to one of those beautiful stereotypical sunny mornings.
"An exceptionally terrible one, you mean," Sookie replied cheerfully, unable to help a smirk. "I'm all about a tan, a pulse and - oh - not being forced to obey somebody until they said otherwise."
Eric did not seem surprised by her knowledge. Instead, he considered her words. "Most makers would not tolerate your insubordination personality," he admitted eventually, a low note of thought in his voice.
"Yeah, most humans have trouble with that as well," Sookie told him, slightly sadistic amusement weaving through her voice.
Eric looked faintly amused before his expression became detached and all business again. "There are things I need to attend to. Malcolm, Liam and Diane will be out of Bon Temps by sunrise."
"Since I get the feeling I'd regret it, I'm not going to ask what you're planning to do with the disco triplets - but thank you."
"Come to me at Fangtasia tomorrow night," Eric commanded, wording his request sensually. His eyes moved over her body, making no move to hide his admiration. "Wear white."
Sookie quirked an eyebrow at him, a smirk toying at the corners of her mouth. "Put some pants on."
The next morning, Sookie was woken up by her shrill ringing of her alarm clock at exactly 6 am. She flinched at the noise, instinctively burrowing under the covers of her own bed (for the first time since Gran) in a desperate attempt at escaping the shrill shrieks.
Of course, it failed.
"Oh my God, why?" Sookie had to ask herself as she twisted blindly around in the white sheets. She shoved her face into the pillow. The noise continued to drill awareness into her head, and she abruptly remembered why she set her alarm so early when the bar wasn't opened until nine.
Last night, after he'd put his clothes back on, Eric had warned her about Jason's nasty habit. Seeing no reason to withhold it, she'd admitted to picking it out of her brother's head. Unless Jason went after a vampire, Eric would let her handle things.
Tension wormed through Sookie's body. Frowning, she rolled over and hit her alarm clock. She felt a reluctance to leave her soft, warm bed and go out into the world where the man who murdered her Gran walked around, and her brother was a drug addict.
But this wasn't something she could put off. She had to open the bar at nine then leave at five so she could get changed before going to Fangtasia at six. She needed to talk to Jason now.
If he asked any questions about what she said, she would just have to deflect until he was distracted by something shiny.
Sookie rolled over again, sheets twisting around her as she settled on her back. Or she could tell him the truth but that was more likely to drive him further into V. Her insides cringed at the mere idea of Jason knowing but she put that option on the backburner.
She was willing to do just about anything to stop him turning out like Hadley or ending up on Eric's bad side.
Sookie forced herself out of bed. She showered quickly, trying not to think of Eric in her bathtub, before pulling on her Merlotte's uniform. She chose a light pink lipstick, darkened her eyelashes with mascara then applied some eyeliner before pulling on her shoes, grabbing her bag, and driving over to Jason's house.
Sookie couldn't remember much of her life before the flood that killed her parents, just glimpses and flashes like dreams, but it still felt strange to think of Jason living in their parents' house. She'd been born in that house.
Which was just as gross as it sounded. Even worse to have to seen it from Jason's eyes.
Wondering if you're parents were high when they named you was fairly common, but knowing that her Daddy had actually been high was just awkward.
Still, some of the memories were happy when Mama hadn't been condemning her for what she couldn't control, and Daddy hadn't been wondering if the two of them were actually his children. As a child, she'd liked going on picnics with Jason, Tara and Gran more than spending time with her parents.
A faint ache flared up in her chest. Her Mama had preferred that as well but Daddy had loved spending time with them, despite her telepathy and his uncertainty about their parentage. The Stackhouse family was one big mess of fucked-up - except Gran.
"In hindsight, I'm not even surprised," Sookie commented under her breath, thinking about her general strangeness and Jason's...everything.
Using her key to the place - someone had to make sure Jason didn't die of scurvy - Sookie let herself in. The place was a mess, as usual, but it wasn't overly dangerous. It was an orderly type of clutter she was used to when it came to her brother. She walked to Jason's bedroom and, with an entirely justified hesitance, she shoved the door open.
As suspected, she flinched at what she saw. "My eyes!"
Jason and a dark-haired woman were in bed - black silk sheets, for God's sake - and they were awake. The woman screamed, yanking the pimptastic sheets to her chest, and Jason cried, "What the fu - Sookie?"
His shout turned into a soft, serious query.
The woman stopped, breathing heavily, green eyes locking on Sookie. "Your sister, Sookie?"
Sookie switched her dark gaze from the woman to Jason, who was staring at her painfully. "Do I even want to know why you were talking about me to - uh - "
"Amy Burly," the woman said instantly. She moved up on her knee on the bed, and offered her hand to Sookie with a smile. "I've heard so much about you."
Sookie blinked at her, trying desperately not to wonder, and instead, looked worriedly down at Amy's hand. "Could we postpone the handshake?"
For a moment, Amy looked puzzled, and then realization hit. "Oh! Oh, no - we didn't have sex."
Sookie stared at her for a moment as she covered herself with a thin sheet, and arched a single eyebrow sardonically. "Sure. Okay, ha - anyway - I need to kidnap my sibling."
Amy looked at Jason, who nodded shallowly with a heavy swallow, "Yeah, yeah. Hey, I'll bring you back some breakfast, okay?"
Sookie felt a stab of surprise at the offer. Since when did Jason even remember the, uh, love of his life's name, let alone to be considerate?
"Oh, you don't need to do that," Amy said, almost shyly.
"It's fine," Jason said, taking his eyes off her for the first time to direct a mushy look to Amy that almost turned Sookie's hair white with shock. "I don't mind."
"Meet me outside," Sookie told him, a little curtly, not wanting to see any more. She turned and walked out of the bedroom, feeling Jason staring after her. A knot formed in her stomach as she walked outside - there was no way Jason was going to let the subject drop.
Sookie sat on the hood of her car, dark gaze turning distant. She could imagine Jason's reaction if he ever knew - tears and guilt and a hot, burning rage. Gran hadn't made a big thing about it, no matter how guilt-stricken and horrified she had been, but Jason wasn't so composed.
And he would change. He wouldn't be able to look at her without seeing all that plastered all over her. She wouldn't be the little sister with a fantastic right hook and sharp tongue who he was proud of. She would be his little sister, the victim he needed to protect.
The idea made her stomach churn and the skin on her shoulder blades tingle.
Tara would be the same, more rabidly protective than ever. It would be different and wrong but Jason wouldn't let the subject drop because he loved her. It was intolerable.
If anyone, Lafayette would react like she needed him too. He would be pissed but he wouldn't lose his shit like Jason or Tara, because he got people better than either of them ever did. He wouldn't treat her differently.
Sookie had no desire to tell anybody - she wanted the secret locked up tightly in her chest until the day she died - but she knew, better than most, that life never worked out like you expected.
Life sucked, all she could do was roll with the punches and quip wittily when shit hit the fan.
The door opened, and Jason jogged out, clothes slightly mussed. Sookie's head turned to him, eyebrows arching in surprise at the sight of him.
"If that isn't a sign of the end, I don't know what is," Sookie announced, pushing off the hood of her yellow car and flashing him a wry grin. "Big brother without his hair gel."
Jason looked confused for a moment before realization hit, and he flattened his hair self-consciously, a grin to match hers appearing on his face, "I had to explain some shit to Amy - and I didn't want to keep you waiting."
For a moment, Sookie felt a spike of irritation before he continued, "Not after last time."
Last time, she had filled a bucket with ice water from the hose and flung it at his hair the minute he walked outside. A fond smile curved her mouth, as she remembered Jason's reaction - which was to chase her around the yard with the icy hose until she apologized.
Or more likely, Gran showed up at his place to find what was keeping them from Sunday lunch which they were never allowed to miss.
Despite that, Gran always had been amused when Sookie showed up wearing some of her brother's clothes because her own were muddy and soaked.
It would never happen again.
The two siblings looked at each other, sharing the same memory and the same pain for a split second before Jason cleared his throat uncomfortably, eyes unusually bright. "Where are we goin', anyhow?"
Sookie shrugged and declared flippantly, "Meh. Center of the Earth. Might wanna bring some suntan lotion..."
Well used to her random nonsensical answers, Jason frowned at her.
Relenting, Sookie answered truthfully, "To see Sam at the hospital."
There might be a delay until I can write the next chapter unless anyone feels like explaining the periodic table in extreme detail to me.
Reviews + Bambieyes1234 = Chapter.