Sookie Stackhouse sat on the corner of her Gran's couch with a glass of whiskey sour in hand, nursing her alcohol with the ease of a practiced sailor. This was her third glass tonight and she was still too sober for her liking. She spent most nights like this, in front of the TV staring blankly at the charmingly practiced smile of Eric Northman as he was interviewed by yet another late-night talk show host. Something about taking a small trip? Vacation? Sookie couldn't for the life of her be bothered to follow along, too preoccupied with checking out the vampire to catch the fluff.
She is now thirty years old, technically twenty-nine since that whole fiasco in the Faerie world stole an entire year of her life from her, too old to be stalking her ex like a schoolgirl. Eric is not my ex. And too fucked up to stop, because as much as it embarasses her to say.. think. Seeing Eric's smiling face helps her get through the night.
It is now four years since her best friend Tara Thornton passed in the Hep-V crisis, god rest her soul. Sookie still had no idea if Tara ever forgave her for forcing Pam to turn her into a vampire. They never got to talk about it before she got staked by a Hep-V vamp, but Sookie hoped at least that being a vampire didn't screw her chances of getting into heaven because she knows Tara deserves it just as much as any other Christain, especially after the amount of times she has saved Sookie's life.
Four years since she assisted her first love Bill Compton in his suicide by her hand and four years since she decided to forgo being a normal human, and remain a Fae forever. And although she regretted her decision and she could very well remake her choice, she lost her nerve years ago.
Sookie grabs her remote and turns off the television lost in thought. The world has moved on from Sookie Stackhouse. Nearly everyone is fully vaccinated against Hep-V, and those who did contract the deadly virus in their bloodstream take pills that have eliminated its existence to the point of having disappeared. 'NewBlood' has saved the lives of millions of vampires and is more universally known than 'TruBlood' could ever dream of.
Everyone has moved on, except her.
Perhaps it's selfish of her to wish things could go back to the way they were so many years ago. Countless horrible things happened to everyone around her, especially to her friend's and family, but she couldn't help but think that at least she was happier. At least she wasn't awoken every night by the memory of her killing her first love. Of watching Bill's eye's dull and his fingers loosen from that stake, and finally, watching as the blood spurt in her face, in her mouth, on her hands soaking her in his remaining essence. Leaving her with no choice but to accept that she will never see him again in this life.
She tells herself that it's because of the guilt that there's a bleeding hole in her heart, a hollow space that can never be filled again. That's the reason why she can't bear to take a single step outside of her Gran's house anymore. The reason why poor Jason and his wife Brigette's groceries take twice as long to complete and are twice as heavy as they used to be when she no longer has any food in the house. The reason why she has weekly visits from Adilyn Bellefleur when she can't find a reason to open her mouth anymore.
And not because she can't admit to herself that she doesn't regret it, that some dark small part of her took a grim satisfaction in it even.
Sookie doesn't register the tears dampening her cheeks at first. It's a common occurrence when she finds herself lost in the past but before she could bother with wiping away the tears she hears a knock at her door.
She stills and every muscle in her body tenses in fear. Her brother Jason and his wife have their own set of keys, rarely feeling the need to knock anymore and Sookie couldn't find it in her heart to bar Jason from visiting their Gran's house.
Grandpa Niall doesn't visit anymore after their last argument, besides he doesn't even use the door, and her friends? Arlene Fowler-Bellefleur, Holly Bellefleur, Lafayette Reynolds and Sam Merlotte? Everyone has their own lives to live and can't worry about 'Crazy Sookie' anymore.
So who was at her door so late into the night?
Perhaps she was drunker than she thought she was because she slips her toes into her slippers and slowly approaches the front door, peering through the closed blinds before opening the door slightly breathless.
"Eric?" Sookie sounded out hesitantly, her tongue sounding out each syllable sweetly, the name tastes foreign on her lips after so many years. He looks the same as she had remembered. Not at all like TV-Eric with the fake smile, and white business professional attire. No, her Eric stood tall with all of his 6 '4 viking glory covered head to toe in black.
"Sookie," He replies in that soft spoken tone of his and Sookie questions if perhaps she accidentally had a 5th glass of her whiskey sour because god damn he sounded the same.
Through her muddled mind Sookie's hands found their way to his coarse leather jacket, almost slipping beneath his undershirt before she knew it. This wasn't some alcohol induced hallucination or a dream. This was real, she could feel him.
Sookie felt the way he tensed underneath her touch, the way he unconsciously leaned into it, and the way he looked at her.
"You've been crying." He stated simply.
She dried her cheeks furiously, turning her face in hopes that he wouldn't see. "I haven't seen you since–" I killed Bill. Sookie wanted to speak those words aloud, but she couldn't. Even after everything, she couldn't force herself to say those words.
She tried again, "You left Eric–" She wanted to slap herself silly. The first time she's seen this man in how long and she can't help but put her foot in her mouth. Way to go Sook.
She takes a deep breath putting on a smile, hoping it doesn't look as shaky as it feels. "Would you like to come in?" She extends the invitation to her old friend. Sookie wasn't sure how long vampire invitations last, but she didn't want to embarrass herself anymore if it turned out he needed one. She glued her eyes on his jacket, and she distracted herself by counting how many divots were in his zipper.
Eric doesn't say anything for a moment and she wished not for the first time, that she was able to read his thoughts.
Sookie hears as he crosses the threshold, his boots stopping just a few inches away from her. At this she does lift her head up, and shocks herself when she finds Eric's stunning blue eyes on her. She doesn't give herself time to read his expression before looking away, "Shoe's off, you know this." And Sookie wonders if he does know this. She had repeated it to him so many times, but that was when he had lost himself and while Eric had said he remembered everything after regaining his memories, Sookie wasn't sure if anything had gotten lost in the chaos, especially after four long years.
She waits as he pries off his boots until his socks hit the hardwood. "It's not like you to make house calls, how have you been? I've seen you on the TV but it doesn't really compare to catching up, how's Pam?" Sookie turning away places her hands to her mouth, she hasn't had much practice in small talk, and as such is prone to rambling, especially when nervous. When she faces Eric again she's surprised to find him so close to her.
He is a giant, massive and silent shadow behind her. And while his darkness should make her scared or even uneasy, it only ever serves to comfort her.
Sookie wonders how she could ever find warmth in the presence of someone who left her.
"Would you like some NewBlood? There's some in the fridge, I don't drink it of course but it's a leftover from James and Lafayette's party. I grabbed it for some reason, did you know gay marriage is legal in Louisiana now? They are planning on getting married by fall." Sookie takes the human blood substitute out of her fridge, it should still be good but she checks the expiration date just in case before stuffing it in her microwave.
"I've been well," Eric answered patiently, "And Pamela is Pam, which means she's doing okay." The microwave beeps and Sookie hands the synthetic blood to Eric. It's warmed enough that it doesn't burn her, but the feeling is still uncomfortable. "Thank you," Eric says as he examines the can that he himself packaged. The face of Sarah Newlin smiles back at him and he pulls the cap, whipping his head back fangs raring. Sookie can't help but jump a little at the sound of his fangs extending.
Eric's eye's trail her body as she shivers.
The previous Sookie would've felt flattered at the attention, but the Sookie she is now only feels sick. Her habit of not eating properly has left her at an ugly thin weight, something she is self-conscious about. And she couldn't imagine she was very pleasing to look at.
"And you?" Eric questions after he has drained his meal dry.
"I'm okay," She mentions weakly before her thoughts turn to other matters, "You must be sick of this stuff by now, being the CEO and everything. Do you like it?" Her Eric was never a fan of TruBlood when it was still in stock, known to instead gnaw on the necks of his many willing victims in his bar, Fangtasia.
Maybe this Eric was different?
His eyebrows raise as if he couldn't believe she has just asked such a question, and he snorts in disgust. Placing the now empty can on her countertop before answering honestly, "Synthetic blood will never compete with the real thing… but I have learned to live off it. As the President of NewBlood I can't exactly be seen drinking anything else, might ruin the image of your friendly neighbor Eric Northman the thousand-year-old vampire." Eric flashes her a smile, letting her admire his bloodied fangs, "Besides, the way it is procured… makes it taste sweeter."
Sookie only nods. Sometimes it's disturbing how similarly textured and colored NewBlood was to the real deal. She would know having been around enough of it to last her a lifetime. After a moment of silence between them Sookie steels herself before asking Eric the question that has been on her mind since she first opened her front door.
"Why are you here Eric?" Because it sure as hell isn't for me.
"Niall visited," Eric replied, and Sookie couldn't contain her gasp of surprise at the unexpected answer.
"What?"
Grandpa Niall wouldn't be caught dead talking to a vampire, he's made his thoughts real clear about their species. Especially after her close encounter with her purported 'fiance' Warlow. Especially not Eric fucking Northman.
"He's worried about you–" Eric starts but Sookie can't help but cut him off.
"Like hell he is. He has no right to be worried about me, not after," Sookie couldn't make herself say it. "Why would he contact you and not someone else in my life who isn't a vampire."
Eric stomps towards her until her chest is nearly touching his and her breath was a shared space between him and her. Hot and needy. He gently cups her face into his palms and she resists the urge to either pull away or kiss him right there and then. I'm angry with him, remember?
"Because right now he thinks you need a vampire."
"I don't need anyone," She spats, and regrets it as Eric lets go of her as if burned and pulls away before she can even think to complain. As if that spark hadn't just ignited something inside of her, as if whatever energy was between them didn't exist. He was just International celebrity Eric Northman and she was just recluse Sookie Stackhouse. Disconnected from each other as if they didn't even know each other.
"And I think he's right." Eric continues as if he hasn't heard her when he clearly did. And for some reason that angers her. Sookie mocks, "I've been doing just fine without a fucking vampire in my life."
"Yeah?" Eric challenges, the way his eyes linger on the unwashed dishes and many empty glasses on her coffee table infuriates her. Who is he to judge her?
"When's the last time you ate?"
And suddenly she wasn't so angry anymore, she was just drained. As if that singular question had sucked the life right out of her. She didn't want to answer him because she was afraid he might be right. Sookie wracked her brain until it felt like it hurt, "Yesterday?"
"Try again Sookie, when was the last time you ate?"
Her mouth felt dry and heavy as she answered, "The day before last, but it's not a big deal."
Eric Northman has found her weak spot and like a wolf that has cornered his prey he doesn't let up, "And can you tell me what you ate?"
Sookie only throws up her hands defensively, "I don't know a fucking three-course meal, served by a very handsome Italian chef, what does it matter what I ate." She asks tiredly, feeling an oncoming headache, "What would a vampire know about food anyway?"
"I have been alive for more than a thousand years, Sookie Stackhouse, I know what a human needs to eat and I know you Sookie. Tell me, what did you eat?" Eric growls, his tone is low and dangerous and has no right sending butterflies to her stomach and making it growl back in response.
"Trail mix," She says quietly, unable to keep the guilt from seeping into her tone. But she doesn't know why she feels guilty towards him, as if she had wronged him personally by not eating healthily. Sometimes she can't even find it in herself to leave her bed, content to just rot until the sun sets and then sleep the nights away.
Having something light and easy to digest waiting by her bedside table was easier than getting up to prepare a meal.
"Fucking Trail mix?" Eric growls in disbelief, his eye's widening as he once again seems to examine her thin frame. "You've been surviving off of Trail mix?"
"And Jason's leftovers when he visits," Sookie jumped in, feeling the need to somehow defend herself. To somehow make this sound better.
"And when is that?"
"Every Monday."
"Jesus Sookie, it's Friday,"
"I know that Eric, you think I don't fucking know how bad that is, how bad it looks, how bad I look?" Sookie felt like she was barely holding it together, as if she were a leaf waiting for this strong breeze to knock her right off her branch, and those tears she had chased away earlier came running back as she hid her face behind her hands.
"I am barely holding it together as it is, and I don't know what the fuck to tell you. So I'm sorry okay, but I am so fucking tired and I don't know how long I can keep doing this!" She's taking deep breaths now but no matter how big of a gulp she intakes it never feels like enough air is making its way into her lungs, she's suffocating.
Until a hand is on the back of her head and the other is on her waist pulling her into a deep embrace. Sookie's nose is now buried into the crook of Eric's neck as he bends to comfort her.
"It's not–" Eric seems to hesitate before he clears his throat a little awkwardly. His voice lowers near inaudible, "I care about you, and I need you to eat Sook. Can you do that for me?"
She cries harder because no matter how many times she's heard these exact words from family members and friends who rarely visit anymore she doesn't believe them, because who could ever care for 'Crazy Sookie', but when those exact same words come out of Eric's mouth with that surety of his. She believes it, she believes him.
They stay in the embrace for a long time, longer than what would be socially comfortable between two platonic adults, but Sookie didn't ever want to let go, to leave because she couldn't remember the last time she's ever felt safe in someone's arms.
And Eric let her take all the time she needed, as her sobbing died down he was there for her, her rock. He slowly played with her hair, the way he used to, muttering in what she could only assume was Swedish, although she couldn't understand a lick of it. And he never made any move at all to signal that he was uncomfortable or like he was to leave her. When she felt ready she muttered a soft apology as she laid her head on his chest closing her eyes in exhaustion.
"Take your time," Eric hummed and Sookie could find no hint of smugness or satisfaction at having successfully persuaded her into his arms.
She pulled away, missing his touch immediately, but she didn't retreat as she wrapped her arms around her chest protectively before taking a seat at her kitchen counter.
"I'm going to order something and I want you to eat it Sook, can you do that for me?" Eric asked sweetly and she was too tired to resist. She nodded in consent and Eric pulled out his blackberry speaking in a fast hushed tone before hanging up.
"They'll be here soon," Sookie only nods.
For a moment a flash of annoyance strikes at her when she encounters that familiar block that all vampires have when she tries to read their mind. That black void that often makes her question if vampires really had any thoughts at all, perks of being dead, she supposed. Except Bill. Unable to avoid it and seeing no easy way out she opens her mouth and speaks her mind.
"Does Pam know you're here?" She ducks her head as the words leave her lips. Pamela, Eric's progeny never understood Eric's affections for Sookie and as such always viewed her as competition. In short she was not a fan of Sookie and anything that had to do with her 'Fairy vagina'
"She does," Eric replies sardonically, "Despite what Pam thinks she is not entitled to know everything I do in life, and she knows better than to look for me until I call for her."
Sookkie raises an eyebrow at that. Pam? The same progeny who searched for her maker for months when he had gone missing with Hep-V? That Pam?
"Really, we've gotten so much better at communicating these past couple of years. She understands Sookie."
"Right?" She questions.
"I'm serious, you don't believe me?" Eric narrowed his eyes playfully and Sookie couldn't help herself from gulping. She hadn't realized his fangs had once again protracted, his smile was nothing like that smile she had seen on TV. It wasn't practiced for PR and damage control. This was real, dangerous and blinding. A smile that could make kingdoms fall and wars end just to be seen again.
Eric smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing to her heart, as if she were the brightest star in the night and the most important person in the world.
And that smile disappeared as a knock came at the door.
It startled her much like Eric's earlier knock, but knowing that she had Eric by her side made her feel a little bit safer at the possibility of encountering a stranger, something she was not at all comfortable with, but Eric makes the decision before she can even move to get up.
He uses his vamp speed to greet whoever was at the door, once again speaking in hushed tones until the person left and he held a bag of warm broth and crackers.
Unexpectedly her stomach protests at the closeness of food and the possibility of filling her aching stomach.
"I could've gotten it, you're my guest," She muttered, but Eric only shook his head pulling a white plastic spoon from out of the bag, placing the broth in front of her and the spoon into her hand.
"I paid for it, only fair if I fetch it for you."
They sit in silence as Eric watches Sookie eat. It's a tedious process but he doesn't complain. She starts with the crackers, taking tiny nibbles in caution as Eric's eyes traced her palette. The soup is cold by the time she finishes and the entire time Sookie's gaze doesn't lift from off the table. It's warm. Before she knows it she's more tired than she's ever felt before and it's nearing dawn.
Eric cleans up her mess before stating, "I should be going," As he moves to leave he stops as Sookie places her warm hand on his cold one.
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" She knew he had just arrived in town, and with him no longer owning Fangtasia in Shreveport she didn't want him to have to rent a coffin so close to dawn.
"It can be arranged," Eric only replies.
"Please," Sookie stops, embarrassed by the sheer amount of desperation she feels. She felt as though if she let go of him she would never see him again, never see that smile of his again and she didn't know if her heart could take it if that turned out to be true. "I still have your cubby, would you like to stay the day and tomorrow we can talk about why you really visited me after all these years?"
She turns her pleading brown eyes to his blue ones before he could protest. Before he nods and Sookie says shyly, "I left it as you did, sorry if it's a bit dusty I haven't gone down and dusted in a while."
"Do you dust often?" Eric questions, and for a moment Sookie felt as though she could catch his thoughts, even though it was impossible. Did you think of me?
"I did," She smiles bitterly, "But I haven't in a long time now."
She leads him to the cubby hole he had installed the year she went missing and after everything Sookie couldn't bear to have her Gran's house renovated to remove it. As much as she hated and missed Eric over the years she couldn't part with the last thing he had ever left her.
She still remembered those tender moments they shared when he lost his memory due to Marnie.
As she watched his descent his burning hot gaze never left her as she bit her lip, holding herself back from the urge to ask to sleep beside him. To feel the weight of another person's body next to her as she rested. She missed it.
"Good night Eric."
"Good night Sookie."