My meeting with Madden was even worse than I thought it could have been. It was long, much too long, for the nonsense it held. Perhaps if it had actually had a purpose other than keeping me miserable as he was seemingly determined to do; in fact, the first thirty minutes of the meeting was simply Victor attempting to find where I had "vanished" to the previous evening.
That was something he was never going to discover, but, Gods! Did he try!
He persisted even after I told him in a most politically correct manner that he did not own one hundred percent of all my evenings. He still did not stop when I told him the same thing in a much less politically correct manner. I was eager for a subject change, thinking the more quickly I learned about his probable and ridiculous reason for demanding to meet with me, the quicker I could return to Sookie.
Yet, even as I was answering the same question for what seemed as if the thousandth time, it felt as if I would not get out of there at all soon. So, in order to give him a boon and in an attempt to get out of there before the sun rose, I gave him an answer. I modestly told him that it had been an issue with my wife.
I hated having to bring Sookie into at all; she was the one thing I was determined to keep safe, to leave out of these vampire politics. It was why I had spent my nights over these last months with Madden and de Castro, and not with her. I was doing everything in my power to keep their focus away from her, even going as far as hurting my relationship with her as her voicemail indicated.
Still, it was not fucking enough! To end his inquiring, I nevertheless had to bring her up, still had to bring her into it. I knew by saying the word, "issue," he would equate that to a problem which would have been an apt description of the current concern. However, he would also assume my words meant a personal issue. That sure as hell would have explained my mood during the meeting given that for the first time, I did not hold back my disdain for Madden. Of course, he thought it was more about, well, whatever he thought was going on with Sookie and me.
I tried to ignore the fact that even if nothing else had happened to Sookie, her voicemail message to me proved that there were, indeed, personal issues between us, ones that I hoped we could solve before long. Of course, I had another issue to solve before we could even start working on the personal ones. Nothing I could do about that at the present though.
Instead I listened and growled my disapproval as Madden told me how I could run my Area. He did not want me taking in more vampires, making it that more difficult to pay the increases he had bestowed upon me the other night. Sure, he blamed "overcrowding" in Area 5, and said that vampires should be encouraged relocation to New Orleans to help rebuild, but that was not truly the stimulus for his words. No, he did not want me welcoming any more vampires to my Area because he did not want to give me an opportunity to have more who were loyal to me.
As much as I hated to admit it, Felipe and Victor were not idiots though it would be so much simpler if they were. They did not have much fight nor resistance in Arkansas seeing as that state was already reeling from the death of its king. Louisiana was completely different story though. They were going to have resistance every step of the way; they knew it, and proved they had planned for it by installing Victor as Regent. It had only been official for a few nights, but already the response was not a favorable one, well, not favorable to Felipe and Madden.
I was happy when Victor called an end to the meeting, having given me enough limits for one evening. I was sure that over the next few nights I would get more, but I would deal with those as they came, much in the same way as I was dealing with what he had given me that night in my head already. I would not allow more vampires into Area 5; that would be something that Victor would easily keep monitored, but I would not encourage them to go to New Orleans. I would have them go to Area 4, and with the Sheriff there, we could work together with what we had. Meanwhile, I would continue to support the rebuilding of New Orleans by following the plans my Queen had put into motion before she was killed.
I had plans of following Victor's edicts, just not the way he intended them to be carried out. I would continue as I did for Sophie-Anne; I would do what was best for the state. I would do what was best for my people and the state of Louisiana, and anyone who got in the way of that would wind up dead.
Perhaps finally. Eventually.
I made certain that Victor had left Fangtasia before I started home. I meant it when I said I did not want him there if either Pam or I were not. The bar held too much information, it was hidden well, but it was still there. Once I was sure he was gone for good, I took off heading for home. When I landed outside my house I paused to look at it. I had dreamed of bringing Sookie to my home, any of my homes, to live with me; for her to agree to that step. I had that now and though it may not have been exactly what I had in mind, it was something I was going to make certain was not wasted.
There was a strange car in my driveway, which I assumed belonged to Amelia. I was certainly glad to have someone who could stay with Sookie during the day. What I had awoken to that evening had definitely shown me how large my oversight had been. It was one that I was certain I would be sure not to make again. However, as good as it was to have Amelia there, I was worried about yet another person having the information regarding what had happened with Sookie. I had enough understanding to know that the witch might be able to give us more information than we could find on our own. That did not mean I was pleased with the idea of another person having the knowledge of something being "wrong," for lack of a better term, with Sookie. That was something else that was bothering me, the terms to use. She was still the same person though there were vast differences. Whether those differences were due to magic, a spell, or a curse I did not know. I was determined to find out. That was the only part of this scenario where I felt a hundred percent confident.
As I walked into my house, I found a note waiting for me on the kitchen table. Pam let me know that she had gone to her rest early. With no other sounds coming from the house, I assumed Amelia had gone with her and was most likely the reason she retired early. A noise in the kitchen was the only reason that I did not join them in my own room and bed, of course.
I was not very eager to see what was making my child to feel that way.
I moved into the kitchen just in time to see Sookie trying to run out of it through the other entrance. I called her name, probably too sharply than I intended, and when she stopped suddenly and looked at me with shame-filled eyes, I realized it. I only hoped I had not managed to undo whatever it was I had done right in the bathroom with her in that second.
I was a little bothered by the fact that she was alone, but I felt Pam close by and soon enough my child appeared from around a hallway. "She's been up for a few minutes," she told me softly enough for Sookie to hear.
"Did the witch have any ideas?" I asked, never once taking my eyes off of Sookie. When she saw that Pam had my attention, she continued to move about my kitchen, being sure to glance back at me every few seconds.
"She said she has some points on where to start," Pam told me before she explained what she meant. Amelia had never seen something as out of the ordinary as Sookie seemed to be. She had heard of magic trapping someone in a younger version of them, but they had retained their adult memories. She knew of spells designed to take memories away, something with which I was too familiar, but they did not return the cursed to their childhood forms. "She asked Sookie some questions and knows where she will start looking for answers tomorrow.
With the way my child answered, I knew there was a little more to the story that she had left out. "What else?"
Pam hesitated before she explained that this Sookie seemed to have thought of Amelia as loud of a broadcaster as her adult counterpart. "Amelia said that she had things she could use to try and fix that," Pam hurried to explain. I was relieved to know that. As much as I did not want Sookie in pain due to an overabundance of loud thoughts, she needed supervision during the daylight hours. Amelia would make sure that nothing happened to her during the day. As much as I may have tried to deny it, Amelia cared for Sookie and would make sure she had the best.
Yet, when it came to Amelia, I was just not certain what she believed what the best was for Sookie. That was my only concern with the young witch. Well, that, and now the loud and knowing the witch-inappropriate thoughts.
"I do not want Sookie to be uncomfortable," I told Pam.
Pam nodded and said, "Neither do I," when Sookie walked to the refrigerator, but hesitated to open it. She still had not noticed my presence or Pam's. I wondered at this young age if she could still feel or notice the voids that she had come to describe as vampire brains. Pam took my hand in hers while we watched Sookie struggle with the decision of opening the door. She was probably thinking about what had happened when I rose for the evening.
I hated seeing her so unsure of herself. It was a side of Sookie she rarely let others see.
"Amelia is talking to someone, another witch, to see if she can somehow block her thoughts, " Pam told me. That was all I could hope for at that time. "We will get her back," Pam said as she squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers in return, knowing that she too needed comfort at that moment. I echoed her words softly, thinking that I would accept nothing else. Pam then gave me a kiss on the check before she walked down the hallway that led to our bedrooms.
That left me trying to figure out just what Sookie was up to in my kitchen. Why was it again my kitchen?
"Sookie," I called again, softer this time in both volume and tone. She looked up at me before she quickly looked down again. I searched my mind as I tried to find the right words to ask what she was doing. My limited interaction with her in either form or whatever you could call them, had shown me that anything interpreted as accusatory would get me nowhere. Finally I settled on, "Did you need something?"
She looked up at me with hope in her eyes and it nearly killed me. Sookie had looked at me with those eyes before, usually right as I had to crush that hope. I repeated my question when she stayed silent, and finally got a nod in response. That was it, a simple nod of her head.
Here I had thought adult Sookie kept me guessing…
I still had no idea what Sookie was doing in my kitchen and I wanted to know. There were so many questions I had in my head that I wanted to ask, to determine why she was not in bed, but I felt they were all reactionary and would be harsh.
So I bit my tongue, quite literally in fact.
"I woke up," she told me adding the unnecessary 'd' onto the end of the word. "Gran makes me milk when I can't get back to sleep." I noticed how she said "Gran" rather than her parents as if even when she was physically the size she was when her parents were rearing her, she knew that it was her grandmother who had raised her. Not that it gave me much information, but it could have been helpful in trying to discover exactly what she remembered.
Of course, I had very little, more like no, information to go on at that moment, I was no closer to determining what happened to Sookie and it was something that I did not like.
"Would you like a glass of milk?" I asked her sure that I had gotten the white liquid from the store. She nodded her head and I took out a glass. I would have to get something more child-friendly, and I poured her a small cup. I held it out and she took it from me, even taking a small sip of it, but I could tell something was wrong. I must have poured it wrong or something. Were there different kinds of milk? The look on her face told me I had done something wrong, but I had no idea what.
I was about to ask her what was wrong with the white liquid when she said in a very small voice," Can you warm it up for me?" I immediately told her I would, but then I was stuck not knowing how exactly. I doubted that sticking it in the stove would be the correct thing. I finally decided on the microwave, but then the decision became about timing. Too long and it would be too hot, and then burn her; too cold would not give her…whatever she was looking for from the warm milk. I picked a time, deciding it should not be that different from microwaving a bottled blood.
I hoped for Sookie's sake the warm milk would taste better than that sludge.
I had taken the glass out of the microwave and did not like how warm the glass felt against my skin. I understood my body temperature was a quite cooler than hers, which could have been why the glass felt warm. I did not want to take any chances though, so I poured the warm milk into a new glass and took it over to Sookie. She blew out onto the hot liquid, maybe to try and cool it down.
"Eric," she said in question while she put the cup down. "Am I going to live with you? Like more than just a sleepover?" she asked and I remembered our conversation while we were still at her house. She did not look at me at all with her question as if she was afraid. I did not know if she was afraid to just ask the question, or if she was afraid of the possible answers to it. I did not know which answer would take that fear away and that was all that I hoped for. I ignored my thoughts about wanting Sookie to ask me that question, hoping a positive answer would be one she wanted.
I hoped it was something that this Sookie wanted here and now as it was the only answer I had.
Not wanting to scare her even more with a simple "Yes," I asked her, "Is that something you would like?"
She finally looked up at me, and looked so much like the Sookie I was used to that, for a second, I got lost in her eyes. I did want her here as she answered, "Yes." I felt my heart soar at that simple word, something else that was a bit unexpected. I also did not expect her to continue as she did when she told me that I made warm milk almost as good as her Gran did.
Neither one of us missed that she had spoken of her grandmother in the past tense.
"Gran won't make me milk anymore, will she?" she asked me in a small, tiny voice. It matched her older counterpart's voice when she tried to hold back tears, which was far too often in my opinion.
"No," I merely responded, hating that was all I had at that moment. I would have to see how she reacted before I determined what I would next say. Sookie though simply closed her eyes, gave me a little nod before her eyes opened, and then took more sips of her milk. It was as though she had known the answer already and was just looking to make sure she had the information correct.
Once she finished her milk, I told her that it was time to get back into bed. She did not fight it; instead she carried her glass over to the counter and put it next to the sink. She then came over and took my hand, and started to lead me down to her bedroom. She got onto the bed with a little help. I moved the bed covers, making sure she would not be cold during the night.
I am just about to turn and leave her when she asked, "Will you play with me outside tomorrow, Eric?" It may have only been my second night with this version of Sookie, but I could already hear the hope in her voice and I could not answer right away; I was not ready to dash that hope. It was then that a thought came crashing into my head. I had most likely been dashing the hope in Sookie for weeks now, ever since I had stayed with her.
"I cannot," I told her. "Though it would be much more fun than sleeping the day away." I did not know how much longer I could go on without telling her more about what I really was. There were times when I thought her quick acceptance was a sign that she remembered me, but not remembering that I was a vampire proved that she did not, not really.
I hesitated in telling her because I did not want to scare her. Sookie was very open-minded about vampires and other Supernaturals whom she had learned about, perhaps too open-minded when it came to a few of them. Still, with her living here I was not sure how much longer I would be able to keep this secret.
She started to pout, but yawned halfway, and it reminded me that her bedtime was long gone past due. I smoothed her hair back one last time before wishing her a goodnight, stood up, and started to make my way out of the bedroom.
Conversation over warm milk. Always exciting, at least it would be with the company Sookie had. I do hope you enjoyed their conversation and the rest of the chapter. Much thanks to MsBuffy and her help with editing.
Still having uploading issues but I was able to get a few done while FF was deciding to play nice so it won't be as long for the next one.