Disclaimer: Do not own the Sookie Stackhouse novels. I'd love Eric for Christmas. Thank you, Santa. If not Eric, how about Gambit, Sawyer or Tim Riggins?

Author's Notes: So when I read DAG and the line about how Sookie thought of Eric every day the sun set, I was like 'plot bunny!' and I know there's tons of X-fans out there who want to skin me alive…Sorry!

I've decided to use song titles for all the chapter titles…I suppose it's a bit of an homage to True Blood, lol and it'll probably clue you in on my musical taste. This one is a song that I love very much and it's called "Beauty of the Beast". It's by one of my favourite bands, Nightwish. I really feel it captures Sookie's mindset at the end of DAG, what she must feel, her detachment, her loss of innocence, her ideas of being a good Christian versus her life, her descent fully into the supe world, the loss of the fairies from the world and her feelings for Eric. Plus, it's crazy epic…which is what I want to achieve with the fic…a bit of an epic. You can find the song by searching 'Nightwish Beauty of the Beast' at YouTube and if you google the same, you'll find the lyrics.

I had also considered "If I Could Fall in Love" by Lenny Kravitz…but felt it limited what I wanted to accomplish with a prologue and didn't really fit, because of how I resolve this piece. "Down in a Hole" by Alice in Chains also flashed into my mind for a second, but I pushed it aside because it didn't sustain the tone of the prologue and was too depressive to set the stage for an entire story with multiple chapters…well, I hope. I know I have people who will kick me off my ass to actually write this sucker.

Funny fact: Did you know that if you googled 'sunset times Louisiana', the first choice you get from one of those sunset/sunrise time sites are for Shreveport? That made me smile.

PROLOGUE: BEAUTY OF THE BEAST

Every day the sun sets with practiced patience of millennial ease. The sun dips below the horizon and the world is doused in pitch darkness. Sight is gone, our most valued sense. We are blind, bumbling over the world we claim in light, completely lost. Unknown enemies lurk in the dark and we are absolutely clueless to their existence. We hear them too late and we are finished. Our lives are expended with the snap of string, ephemeral, insignificant.

We want to cling to light as our hope. We can cling all we want, it is still hopeless.

It has been this way for as long as there have been men. We like to think the night belongs to us, but we would be wrong. For all of our bright lights and brilliant technology, we are still blind. We have never conquered the night. Neither in the sprawling cities where a glow of purple smog hangs in the night, artificially attempting to block the dark to keep us safe, nor here in Bon Temps. Bon Temps, Louisiana, my beloved backwater, where the dark can still truly touch you. Lights in the darkness are small beacons, electricity is godsend, but it can't put out the sky's depth. None of us can.

The dark is still real, deep and powerful. It still clings to you, still crawls. Here you know with absolute certainty, the night is not yours.

For their greatest sense is not sight. Smell and sound rule their senses. We can never rule in their natural law.

Every sunset brings the blackness to my world. I am blind. I could very well be hopeless. I could be expended. But I breathe it in. I revel, for he is the night. He is not my first, but he might just be my last.

They tell you to fear the dark, but every sunset, I feel hope.

Every time the sun vanishes below the horizon in a brilliant blaze of last glory, I get the urge from somewhere in my heart to jump into my car and drive. Drive to Shreveport, don't stop. Drive, racing the wind, like only he can. Go see him, breathe him, feel him. It streams over me like a wave I just don't want to clamp down. I can almost taste the distant memories. They're fleeting things, always gone. Nothing more than a wish. He's not that…not anymore…but maybe I want something else now?

I always allow myself to feel this, if only for a moment, just before the final spark burns out, hoping this is the last day, that the urge will expend itself at last.

It never dies.

It lives within me with inevitability. One day you'll drive there and you won't stop, can't stop, shouldn't stop.

It terrifies with more power than the night ever held over me.

I know with more certainty than ever before, I do not and cannot control the night. I do not own the night. He does. And he may own more of that than I can imagine and more of me than I'd like.

I had handed him the helm to my life for a moment that night in Russell Edgington's mansion. He had come through for me, protected me. I surrendered control to him then. I think I desperately need control over my own life and these past weeks, I have had no control whatsoever. It terrifies me.

The things I want to hold constant are anything but. The older I get, the more I see this. Bill wasn't who I thought he was, wasn't who I wanted. My dear Gran sure as hell wasn't who I thought she was either. Who can I trust?

Every time I think I could trust him, he pulls a stunt, like the marriage. And I don't have control. I wanted so badly to stick it to him, pour my drink on his shirt, slap him, yell at him, turn on my heel and run out of Fangtasia, but instead I'm sitting at his table for an entire evening. I just wanted him there for a moment. How can I run to the one thing that takes away my control the most?

Why do I turn to him more and more? I wish I could dispel the longing I had for him these past few weeks. I've never needed a man in my life. I've never really had one either. But I found myself wishing for him to be there for me when the FBI came to my house. Eric would know what to do. That thought pounded into my brain as they asked me questions. He would protect me, he would keep me safe. He doesn't just invade my thoughts at sunset anymore. Little things remind me of him, like my the flawless skin or my red nail polish.

What terrifies me more is my wanting to rely on Eric. Eric, who thinks of nothing but his own skin. Eric who could never put me first. Eric who is nothing more than a dream, a fairy tale. My Eric isn't this Eric and my Eric wasn't real. I can't make him into someone he's not. Is the Eric in front of me the Eric I want?

In the depths of my torture at the hands of the senseless fairies, Neave and Lochlan, I wanted him to be the one to save me, not Bill. I wanted so much to be able to rely on him, that maybe…maybe I could. He didn't come though.

I remember opening the bond, clawing at it in despair and desperation. I begged for him, I prayed. I had hoped. He didn't come.

I need to know why. I'm scared because it supersedes my need to know the terms of our marriage.

He says I'm killing him, but he's killing me too.

Don't you know? You could destroy me better, faster than anyone else.

I have to live with that, he has to live with me.

These past few days have expanded beyond what I have felt normally. I feel the pulse of every minute and the weary length of every hour. They are slow and tortuous. They allow you to feel every scrape, scratch, scar and sore. Each bruise and mark brings with it a reminder that lies behind your eyes.

Every morning I wake to nature's January calls. It is like a balm, whether it's the pattering sound of rain, making me feel as if I am floating off to a destination unknown or the sound of wind that has brought down a touch of snow that blankets the frost tipped earth. I remember the snow of a different year. I remember the touch of childlike giddiness that crossed his features for a minute as he took in the scene at my house. I had hoped in that minute. It was fleeting and passed.

My days have been spent healing in my old house. My old family house, or is it? It houses more secrets than most. For one, my grandmother's. I'm beginning to wonder if I really did know her. I just cannot conceive of the idea in my heart that she could be unfaithful. There's so much I want to ask her, not just about her life and her choices, but I want her advice still. I want do know what she'd say. But she's dead and her voice is silenced.

This place has begun to feel like a stranger's home. I was the little girl that lived and died here. I am no longer my grandmother's child. The hardwood floors, the old bathtub, the mismatched furniture, the collection of heirlooms, the century of ad-ons, its rustic country home style have lost some of its appeal to me. This was the place of my last remaining innocence. The bodies, the tragedies, the lies it houses, I think, finally overwhelmed it. The good memories outweigh the bad in this place, but I think I've outgrown it and Bon Temps too.

How could I not? I love Bon Temps, Louisiana, but it is not my entire world anymore. Not when so much has happened to me in this past year and a half. Good and bad. For better and for worse. Beaten, staked, raped, shot, blown up, tortured. I've endured more physical pain than most, but I couldn't always win, could I? I didn't this time.

I wanted so badly to stay out of their world, but the harder I tried to stay apart, the harder it sucked me in. I can no longer deny I'm a part of it. Not when I'm a telepath. Not when I work for a shifter. Not when I date vampires and shifters only. Not when I'm a friend of the Long Tooth pack. Not when I'm under the employ of the vampire monarchies. Not when my brother is a werepanther. Not when my great-grandfather is a fairy prince. Not when my cousins are fairies too. And I can't believe I'm going to say this…Not when I'm married and blood bonded to a vampire sheriff. I must have been crazy to even try. Of course, they don't call me Crazy Sookie for nothing.

Something in me has died. I'm New Sookie.

But I don't know this Sookie. She's not who she was. She's lost a piece of herself somewhere down the road. She was engulfed by the world and its cruelness.

I think Sam sees that, sees what I've lost. He tried to keep me out of it for the longest time, but he failed. A question rings in my ears, "Do you regret this?"

Sam's been coming by everyday this past week to drop off food for me and Amelia and keep us company. We're no good for that. Not now.

Amelia's lost Tray. She's taking it hard and mourning. She really loved him. They really loved each other. It was just too soon. They could have had so much and it was ripped away with such quickness. I haven't seen her much. She's mostly in her room with her memories and happier times of Tray and what could have been. They would have gotten married and had a family. I know it. More families gone and more children to never see the world. I can't bear to see her right now. It hurts me to look at her, to know, to feel the depth of pain and guilt that I do. I can't ask for her forgiveness. I can only hope she'll still be my friend. I have so few of them as it is and it's a selfish wish, I know.

I'm not much better.

The ravages to my body are slowly healing. Little by little, each day I saw a bit of improvement, but I was still dead tired. I felt simply drained from it all. The blood Eric gave to me helped a lot, but it is still something for time to mend. I hope that my body will bare no physical remembrance to mark it. It would be too much.

Inside I was dark. There was no healing, only pain and questions for my soul that lingered. I couldn't help but wonder if the core of Sookie Stackhouse had been changed forever.

It had been a week and a half since I'd been tortured and the final battle of the Fae War. I spent my days trying my best to relax. I was held to that by Sam, whose company was also that to watch me like a hawk, lest I do anything strenuous. He brought by flowers from the girls at the bar. Holly sent me a large bag of homemade cookies made by herself and her son Cody. It was apparent which cookie was Cody's and which was Holly's from the shape of them. Holly's were even and uniform all around, while Cody's were lumpy in some places, smooth in others and wholly uneven. Terry showed up one morning and without preamble did a great deal of yard work for me, shovelling the snow and cleaning the yard. Tara came by to make me dinner. Old Mrs. Caroline Holliday Bellefleur gifted me with her decadent, award winning chocolate cake.

However, the thing that made me smile and laugh for the first time in days was the obnoxiously scandalous pot brimming with bright red flowers resembling lady parts. Eric had sent them to me the day after Niall visited me and left me with his cryptic message. Yes, they were the flowers, the exact flowers that Eric had sent that first time I was in the hospital, shortly after we had met. Sam's face had been blushed as red as the blooms when he had brought them in for me from the delivery man. It had been hilarious when he stuttered asking me where I wanted them. The message had been sweet though, 'For your smile, dear one,' in gorgeous penmanship and signed with an ornate and elaborate 'E'. They now sit next to me on the small side table beside the couch in full view of the front windows. The ladies in the Descendants of the Dead would be scandalized to see it, if they showed up.

I spent most of my time spread out on the couch in the living room, trying to reach blissful escape. I didn't want my thoughts to overwhelm me. I just didn't want to think about all that had happened. It was inescapable, but I still did it. There was the TV, books and music to be had. Hell, I could even mess around with Amelia's laptop. She had gotten wireless internet for the house. I could be doing major damage to my figure, eating all that I had, except for the fact that I was healing and the attack had left me with my coveted size six. I would so be going on that diet plan next time I tipped my personal scales…

I had been taking a nap on my couch, with my face shaded by Eric's naughty flowers, when I heard the tinkling sound of the house bell. It was a shock to the system. My beat up copy of The Princess Bride was splayed across my belly, my hands still tucked in the pages. I had decided to engage in both the book and the movie. I loved both.

I had been lying on the beach somewhere. I don't remember where, just the feeling of the water tickling my feet and legs as the waves filed in and out, the sweet warmth of the sun on my skin, the faint scratch of sand on my calves and toes and the feeling of Eric's cool chest against my back. I remember his arms curling around my waist, and my fingers tangling against his on my belly. It was peaceful and relaxing, but reality waited.

Slowly, I pulled the ugly afghan from my aching body and shifted onto my feet. I croaked out, "Coming!" before taking a few laboured steps. I grimaced. I felt weak as a newborn kitten. Suddenly, I wished Sam were still here to answer my door. I'd have some protection from any threats to my person and I could stay in my nap.

Abruptly, I switched directions from my door to the kitchen. I needed painkillers and I needed them now. I found the orange pill bottle, rather incognito for a supe doctor, I thought, and popped two ibuprofen with a gulp of water. I sighed, knowing it would take a few minutes for the medication to kick in, before finally flinging open my door to reveal Niall's smiling face.

I gasped and clutched my heart in surprise. Since when did fairies use the front door?

"Hello, great-granddaughter," he greeted, still smiling. I noticed it lacked his usual cheer and goodwill. He seemed deeply sad reminiscent.

"Great-grandfather, hi...Umm…please, come in," I said, attempting to get over my shock and ushered him into the living room and the couch. I was about to take off the afghan for him when he stopped me.

"No, you sit, dear one. You should be resting." He pulled off the afghan as I sat down, folding it elaborately. There was the fairy way to do things and the human way, I mused with a slight smile. He would have to teach it to me sometime before he left, I thought sadly.

"I was, until you rang my door, you know," I teased. He just smiled in that Niall way.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I have come to you with a gift," he started, then seemed to backtrack, "Well, not so much a gift. I needed you to have it." He pulled out a long vial containing a liquid red purple in colour. "You would have had it earlier…if…" the words seemed to escape him, "if Claudine…She was one of our best potion makers." He explained, deeply pained. Looking into my eyes he said, "And you must understand it has not been easy to procure this for you due to our political situation. Even those on my side have reluctance to everything human now it seems," he said letting out a long sigh.

I felt the breath catch in my throat and a large lump form. Oh Claudine…I breathed rapidly in an attempt to quell the tears threatening to fall.

"So what is it exactly?" I asked bluntly, "It's not that I don't appreciate the difficulty you've had getting it…but I'd just like to know."

"A healing concoction. Powerful and potent. It will remove any trace of Neave's and Lochlan's ravages that would have remained once you healed. I know your vampire was unable to give you more of his blood due to his abhorrence of Renfields and the amount of blood of his you have at the moment," he said. Oh good, no scars. That was a relief. I could barely look at my body knowing that even Eric's blood could not stop the scarring. I don't know what was worse, the marks all over my body with their associated memories, or the look on Eric's face when he saw them. It was the look in his eyes. Haunted. And he made himself look, I was sure of that. I could see him burning it to memory in his thousand year old eyes. He had never revealed his years more than in those moments.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Niall looked out the window into the distance, "I was so proud of Claudine when she was just a child. She was so advanced. So gifted. The ease she had making potions, salves, concoctions that fae four times her age would have difficulty with…Had she made you a concoction, you would be healed within three days and your spirits lifted too," He looked so forlorn.

"She was very brave and very sweet," I said, placing my hand on his.

"Yes she was," he replied. He seemed so far away.

"How's Claude doing?" I inquired. He had lost his last triplet. First Claudia and now Claudine.

"Devastated. He was very close to Claudine, much more so than Claudia, even though their personalities were so different. Claudia always resented that, that Claude and Claudine could be so close, despite everything."

"What's he going to do?" I didn't have to elaborate. The portals between Faery and Earth would close.

"He hasn't made a decision yet, but I think he'll stay. He always enjoyed this world more than his homeworld. All of my family, I suppose."

Niall then looked at my face and pat my hand, "The portals will close completely in one year's time. We're giving that period for all the fae to decide whether to remain on Earth or come back. It's a rather complicated and lengthy process. You see, Earth is our crossroads to all other Fairy Realms. When they're closed, it will be much more difficult to move in between them. Not only that, finding all the Fae will be difficult."

He looked contemplative for a moment and then, "I must go. I have much work to do."

"Wait!" I exclaimed. Great. How was I going to broach this. Just rip it off quick like a band-aid. "You told me that the vampire wasn't a bad man, that he loved me. Who did you mean? Eric or Bill."

It was the million dollar question that had been gnawing at me, since he told me a three days ago. I felt like I was going insane. Why was it that the dead men wreaked the most havoc to my life? Did he mean Bill, my first love? Our relationship had ended over a year ago. It had soured greatly, but there was good in Bill and we were together once. I remembered the times I did love him. Of course, that made the betrayal all the more difficult. I didn't hate him anymore though. He was unabjured. Still, we could never go back to what we had and I don't think I want to be with him in a romantic context. Not anymore. He says he loves me and I believe that he does. I just don't feel it in return. Not the way he wants me to. I feel like I've finally moved on.

Did he mean Eric? Complicated Eric. I didn't even want to fathom that. I just didn't want to think about my thoughts that always trickled back to him these days, his presence, his power, his attitude…God, he could be such a prick, but also funny, he got my humour. His laugh was always rumbling and warm. Still, he was a big fat giant prick, a hot prick whose smug smile I'd love to slap off some time, but still an arrogant prick. And okay, he was sweet, in his own Eric way, loyal and noble. He did replace my driveway after all…and my coat, my cell phone, my door…

Still, he had hurt me deeply when he lost his memories of our time together under Hallow's curse. It was unintentional and it wasn't his fault, but the hurt was deep in me. Mourning for someone that never existed is the hardest thing you'll ever do. To know that what you had was completely meaningless. And the real Eric was so far away from the Eric who had stayed with me. He was closed to me, someone who didn't need me. I was unimportant, just a flash in his long existence. My Eric had made me feel needed.

Of course, the big jerk also protected me as much as he could. He took bullets for me, he got people to look out for me, he'd kept me safe, assisted me when I need it. Hell, it was the most underhanded move ever, but he did marry me for my own protection. It's better to believe that than other things. True, he didn't show up in the Neave and Lochlan Incident, the NLI, but I knew it wasn't like he did it because he had taxes due or something. At least, I hoped not. I don't think I could bear it if he was…I don't know if I could bear to know either way.

I shook myself out of my musings. In my head it seemed like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

Niall smiled, a genuine smile and an amused look crossed his face with a raised brow. "You know," he said simply as he brushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. His fingers continued to brush over my heart and paused. "In here, you know. You feel it. Trust your heart, dear granddaughter."

"But…" I began. I don't know. I don't.

"Dear heart, I cannot answer what your heart already knows. It will come to you in time. Just don't fight it. Now I must go. Be safe," he continued.

"I'll try," I said with a smile.

"Try harder?" he said wryly.

"It's not my fault, you know. It's yours. The fairy blood and all that," I teased.

He shook his head and the white blond hair fluttered around his shoulders, his green eyes twinkling, "No, it's not the blood. Never has been. I can assure you." Still more to think about. Great. One problem walks out and ten walk in, story of my freaking life.

Externally, I shrugged and said, "If you say so."

We stood and I walked him to the door. There was so much I wanted to ask of him. Not just of this, but of everything. I wanted his advice. I needed to know him. I was never more aware of how little time we'd had together, and in a year's time, he'd be gone, taking all the rest of my family with him, except maybe Claude. I felt severely alone. It was like the universe had marked all those who I cared about for death or abandonment of me. It just wasn't fair. What it gave, it took away and what was I left with? A big fat nothing.

"Drink…I believe the human equivalent is 100 mL of the vial's contents each morning until it runs out," he stroked my cheek with his thumb and stared into my face, as if memorizing the features, "Do not be sad for us. You will be well. I'll see you when I can." He kissed my cheek and I told him goodbye. And then he walked out the door into the middle of the yard.

When he had reached enough distance, he turned around and waved. The air around him shimmered for a moment, before 'Pop' and he was gone.

It was about 4pm and the brightness of the Louisiana sky was already beginning to fade to darkness. Everything was cast in a golden light. Winter brought about early sunsets and longer nights. Longer nights for the creatures of the night to roam. The atmosphere had set off my great-grandfather beautifully though. The light had highlighted his delicately wrinkled features and brought out the leafy green of his eyes. I tried to burn the memory into my brain with the clarity that every moment with him was my last.

Time was chasing my tail with its scythe it seemed.

The sky would soon darken though and although the night should stir my deepest fears, I felt sweet relief. He would be coming soon. I felt my body relax.

Every day I yearn for the promise of sunset.

I realize this and it shakes me to the core. What of the sun I love so much? What of her?

Certainly the night is not without fear, even for me with all my vampire friends and allies.

The night has reached a strange dichotomy for me. I yearn for it and I fear it as well. It brings for me the greatest pleasures and deepest pains.

I felt exhausted. The golden glow of the sun, its relaxed laziness reminded me of how little I'd slept the past few days. My body was drained, but my mind raced with my conflicts and the nagging fears of my latest attacks. Dreams haunted my sleep. All I could see was sharp silver capped teeth, bloodied by my blood and hanging with my flesh. All I could hear was their laughter, their pleasure in my pain, their cries of joy, and their arousal at my agony. The Boogey Man in my brain. I despised it. I despised the weakness of it, their power over me. They were dead, dammit, dead.

I felt intensely claustrophobic all of a sudden. I needed to get out of the house. I was still standing by the open door, letting the heat out. I shook my head. I needed to get a grip of myself. I grabbed my cranberry coat from its hook and pulled it on. I felt better immediately.

Remembering that Sam had left me a thermos of hot chocolate, I brought that outside with me as well as my truly hideous afghan onto the wraparound porch. The paint was cracked and faded. It would need a fresh coat of paint this year, I realized. My family home was always in need of some repairs. Another expense I'd had to pay for with my recent nest egg. It just wasn't fair. I always needed to spend what I had to save. It wasn't like I had anything I really wanted to save money for. No life I needed money for, no family to feed. But I guess I wanted to keep that option open and it would be nice for once if that money would last.

I slouched onto the porch swing with the afghan draped around my shoulders, watching the sunset, sipping on the hot chocolate Sam had brought over. It was homemade, his mother's recipe. She had been released from the hospital in Sam's sister's care. Divorce proceedings between his mom and stepfather were finally underway. I knew the pain caused by family secrets all too well, I thought.

Jason had not come to see me. I had not heard from him since Niall saw us both. I guess our relationship had finally strayed too far to be mended, or maybe the pain is too great right now. I had my pain and he had his. We could be coming together as siblings for support, but that's not what we've ever been about. I wasn't overly concerned about my absentee brother though. He'd been part of my life, but absent in all of it anyway. So it wasn't like it was a difference. It's just…at least before we were civil and docile. There wasn't this rift. Is he another person I'm leaving behind?

I've left behind Arlene for sure. Sam told me she had been put in jail. Since the FBI had been involved in the investigation, the nature of the hate crime and the lack of judicial facilities in Bon Temps, she would be tried in New Orleans. Coby and Lisa had been made wards of the state. They were in Shreveport right now. My heart broke for them. What life would they have now? How could you do this Arlene? I wonder when I'd be required to testify against her. I don't know if I could face looking at her. Another bad memory in New Orleans, I guess. I wish Pam had been wrong about her.

Pam had been coming each night to check on Bill and me on Eric's orders. She would come before she was due in at Fangtasia, usually around six-thirty. Bill was still ensconced in his hidey hole. Pam said all she could do was leave him blood, bags from the blood bank and True Blood. He didn't speak much either. He wasn't out of the woods and his survival was still questionable.

Pam checked on Amelia too. Amelia mostly stayed in her room, but she let Pam in to see her. I hadn't tried. It was too hard right now. Her room was a mess. Dirty dishes, books and clothes tossed about. All she's worn for days is one of Tray's shirts. Pam would stroke her back and talk to her. I could hear them upstairs when I was in the living room. Pam would leave the door open, so she could hear what I was doing better. I was onto her. She could be very soothing. When Pam would leave, Amelia would be dead asleep.

Sleep had eluded me. The dreams of Neave and Lochlan were horrifying. I couldn't sleep through the night. I'd wake up unable to go back to sleep. The dark crept up on me and devoured my bravery. Every corner hid untold horror.

Pam noticed my extreme tiredness the third day of her ordered checks. She had recommended sleeping pills. I refused. I'd had to take so many painkillers already. The fear of having dreams I could not wake up from terrified me too. Pam had let it slide. Eric did not.

He was insistent. I still refused. Eric was strange. It was the best way I could describe it. Normally he would get angry if I was unwilling to do something he wanted. Now, he just seemed desperate. His voice was hearse…the way he'd kept saying please…He kept pressing until I told him my fears of being trapped inside the horror, unable to wake up. To my embarrassment, I had started crying uncontrollably.

He pulled me into a tight embrace then. It pained my aching torso, but I said nothing and clung just as tightly to his shoulders. Eric held me for a long time. I woke up the next morning without memory of what happened after, except of a vague recollection of a cool body pressed against mine, soothing calm and warmth. A note had been left on my bedside table, 'You can count on me, lover.' I had flipped it and noticed a post script, 'I've got a big sword.' I shook my head and smiled. Leave it to Eric to ruin something sweet.

Eric usually came around eleven to midnight after he'd finished work at Fangtasia and managing the Area. I'm sure Pam briefed him when she got into Fangtasia. The first night he came, I had awoken to a scream. Mine. It was the night of the day he sent the flowers. The dreams had been getting worse. They began almost immediately after the abduction. My body racked with shudders and cold sweat. I felt like I was hyperventilating. The dreams were so vivid, so real. I could feel still their claws on my legs, the coldness of their sharp teeth.

It had been just past midnight. I had tried to turn in early. Looks like I've been asleep for less than an hour and a half. Still, I was tired and drowsy and I wanted to sleep, but knew that I couldn't. I tried to read myself to sleep, to force my exhausted body to take over, but my weary eyes could not focus on the words. They just blurred. Resigned, I hopped out of bed and decided on a movie.

Since Amelia had moved in, she put little updates in the house, like the flat screen TV she had given to me when she got her high def plasma and her DVD player when she switched to blue ray. When I got into the living room, I grabbed a random DVD and popped it in. I smiled when I saw the shoddy CGI owl. Labyrinth.

Sarah had just started her opening monologue when I heard a voice somewhere to my right.

"What the hell are you watching?"

I let out a small shriek and found myself staring at Eric who had a very confused look on his face, "Is she at one of those tacky Medieval Festival things? They never get anything right." He must have come in from the kitchen.

"How did you get in?"

He raised an eyebrow and shook a set of keys in his hand. At my look of confusion, he said "Pam gave them to me."

I huffed. So that's why she wanted them. That Pam.

He smiled. "Good evening, dear heart."

"Hi." I clutched the cushion I had on my knees tighter. I so did not want to talk to Eric right now.

Eric pulled off his black leather jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch. Reaching into his pockets, he removed his wallet and cell phone and dropped it onto the coffee table with the scandalous flowers, along with a set of my house keys and what must have been his. He was wearing a black Fangtasia T-shirt with the Fangtasia logo and 'The bar with bite' underneath. It was just snug enough in all the right places, like his blue jeans. His long blond hair was pulled back into a loose low ponytail. He looked gorgeous. If I wasn't so worn out and beat up, I would've jumped him. I noticed he had put his black boots on the mat beside the kitchen door. I smirked. His socks were red with little black bats on them.

"Nice socks."

"I'll tell Pam you liked them. She gave them to me at Halloween," he said as he pulled my afghan off the back of the couch and placed it onto my shoulders. As he settled onto the couch, he pulled me into his arms and I snuggled into his chest. It felt so good. Mmm. He smelled like fabric softener, soap and Eric. It was comforting.

"How have you been, my Sookie?"

"Bored." Eric gave me a look. "I have nothing to do but lie around the house all day. Niall visited. Jason was an ass. I so don't want to talk about them right now. So nothing new really. You?"

He snickered and then, "We're expanding Fangtasia."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Felipe 'requested' even more revenue for my area. Pam's going to get that second level loft thing that will look over the main bar that she always wanted. There will be a bigger dance floor and stage, more seating, pool tables. Pam is thrilling at tweaking the look of the bar area. I'm fighting my damndest to keep that place intimate though."

"You like having your version of a dive bar."

He smirked, "Yes."

"Your office staying the same?"

Of course Eric would have caught the look on my face. "Are you making a proposition for me?"

"Maybe."

"Yes, it shall stay the same. I do not need more space."

"Good."

He leaned into my ear and whispered, "I shall take you up on your proposition one day soon." Did it just get about ten degrees hotter?

He smirked. "Did you like the flowers?"

"Hate to tell you Eric, I'm not into girls."

He gave me his mischievous smile. The one with the naughty look in his eyes and the tiny crinkle in the corner of his mouth. Uh oh.

He grabbed his cell phone. It was a cranberry red BlackBerry, (well, I actually felt justified in calling this one a CrackBerry, get it, cranberry BlackBerry) that matched my phone. He began dialling. I guess you never need speed dial when you're a vampire because of the instant recall. Lucky bastards.

"What are you doing!?" I exclaimed, a little panicked.

"Calling a contractor, I'm getting you a greenhouse."

Well, I was definitely panicked now, "Why would I need a greenhouse!?"

"For your banana tree," he explained with a wave of his hand.

I tried lunging for his phone. He simply used his long arms to hold it out of my reach and laughed at me. I used my cushion to hit his face.

"What is this called?" asked Eric when he had finally stopped laughing. He had placed his phone back beside the plants.

"Labyrinth."

Eric's eyes widened and he looked excited, "Is there a minotaur?" he asked with almost childish glee. Ahh, the possibility of blood, guts and fighting.

"No."

Eric deflated immediately and yes, oh my God, he was pouting. I snickered.

"You are a cruel woman," he teased.

"I'm not the one wanting to see a minotaur disembowel people. Now be quiet."

"She is very ungrateful and melodramatic. It's quite annoying," he muttered. Sarah had just thrown her fifth temper tantrum.

"I know," I replied.

"Why do you watch it then?"

"David Bowie and muppets."

"A flamboyant rock star and Jim Henson's puppets? If you say so, lover."

"Jim Henson is a genius. Wait until you see the Helping Hands."

"Is that another proposition?" He leered down at me.

I just rolled my eyes. "Only you, Eric…Just watch the movie."

He huffed and rubbed my shoulder. His hand traveled the length of my arm before hitching up the loose sleeves of my long sleeved t-shirt to my elbow. With a critical eye, he inspected the wounds crisscrossing my arm. His finger gently traced each mark. His cool touch was welcome as it soothed the wounds. "You are healing well," he remarked. I picked up slight relief in his voice.

"Yes."

"Are you in pain?" He had started with my other arm, repeating the process meticulously.

"Not too much. Sam brought me painkillers this morning. Actually—" I started, but Eric had settled me off his body and was already in the kitchen. I heard the fridge open and the clink of glass as he pulled out a bottle of what must be True Blood from the whir of the microwave as he began to warm up the blood. I heard the tap run and then the ding of the microwave.

In no time, he was back. He settled back on the couch and helped me sip water and down my medication. When I was finished, he gulped down the True Blood and then took my hand. He kissed the back of it before he began to run his tongue over it.

"What are you doing?"

He stopped briefly, "Vampire salve," he replied. He had started up my arm.

"Eric." He merely kept on my arm.

"You should take off your shirt," he said and I knew he meant nothing sexual by it.

"Eric, stop," I grabbed his large hand in my small one and looked at his face. He sighed, frustrated. Emotions flared across his face and the bond. They were dark. His eyes bore so much emotion, it almost hurt.

I twined my fingers through his and used my right hand to stroke his cheek, "It's okay. I'll be okay, I promise." I wondered briefly if I believed that, but I felt the need to belay his fears.

I leaned up and kissed his lips slowly. He responded gently and stroked my back with his free hand. It felt like we were in a bubble. Nothing but Eric and Sookie and it felt good.

When I broke off the kiss, I left a chaste kiss on his cool cheek. "Thank you, honey."

"When you were abducted, I—"

"I know, Eric," I said surprising myself, "I know you weren't balancing your cheque book or something like that." As I said it, I knew it to be true. There was something else, but right now, I just wanted to snuggle with him and watch Labyrinth.

He began stroking my hair, "It's never the right time," he sighed, "It seems our little coming to an understanding is once again victim to something. This time it's your sleepiness." He wasn't accusing, just disappointed.

"You want a rain check sticker?" I asked.

He laughed and relaxed, I felt his chest rumble. It was soothing. "When's it redeemable? At Sookie Stackhouse's whims?" he teased.

"They were really cool and red and everything. Now you're not getting one." I mumbled. He just laughed harder.

He was about to say something but was distracted by David Bowie coming onscreen in a pair of very tight, very, ahem, revealing grey pants. He said something else, "Oh, David Bowie, eh?"

"I'll have you know, it's a children's movie."

Unfortunately, I had forgotten the rather unfortunate dialogue and the unintentionally suggestive shot of Hoggle kneeling in front of Bowie's crotch.

"Kinky," Eric had said, waggling his eyebrows and I had to laugh.

At Bowie's confession of love that was laden with suggestion to Sarah, I asked, "Aren't you going to say anything?"

He chuckled, "It's too good to say anything to." I rolled my eyes and laughed with him.

It had been a good night. When the movie was done, I was finally tired enough and relaxed enough to sleep. Eric had tucked me in and left with me with a kiss goodnight. I had woken up the next day feeling alright, but for the next two nights, sleep had eluded me. I'd lie in bed all night in a tired, exhausted haze, unable to close my eyes. I'd try to sleep during the day, but the naps didn't do much for me.

The only thing that afforded me sleep was Eric's presence, as I found out. He had left after he had tucked me in for two nights and my dreams worsened. So every night since then, he's come through my bedroom window to spend the night with me. He's like my big security blanket, Viking sized, I giggled, as I watched the snow swirl through the cracks on my porch. I could just picture him chasing away my Boogey men, swinging a giant sword.

We had yet to have our talk. I anguished over it. We hadn't even dealt with our blood bond and now we were married. Married! I don't even know if I love him or if he loves me and he does this! I don't know if it's just what a thousand year old vampire does out of boredom or convenience, but marriage means something to me. It was important and life changing, it wasn't supposed to be something just thrust upon you. I have no doubt it was for my own protection, but you're supposed to be in love with the person you marry. I'm not naïve enough to think that it was true for all marriages, but it was what I wanted for mine. I know Eric cared about me, but what did he want from me? Well…asides from sex. What did I want from him?

Maybe I just wanted it to mean something. I needed it to mean something, because what if it didn't to him? Then where would I be?

I guess the big question was whether or not he loved me and whether or not I loved him in return. Of course, I had nothing to do but spend my days thinking and it was driving me up the wall. I was stuck in my head. I had no distractions. I felt like I was going insane, but I just wasn't ready.

I just wasn't ready yet and between the flurry of activity brought to Eric as sheriff regarding Were politics, the expansion at Fangtasia (They had just gotten a permit.), my healing and general weariness, it just hadn't been the right time.

Eric didn't push me, but he felt a little more anxious each day when I probed the bond. His face revealed nothing. I sighed and continued watching the sky darken. I knew we would have it and soon. He could only wait so long and I guess I was just as anxious, but there was a touch of dread in me too, a big touch. His mood reflected on Pam though. She was getting exasperated and snippy.

I sighed. I felt a little cold, but the brisk air felt good on my skin. The light whisper in my mind became a faint hum. I smiled. He must be awake. I had checked on Amelia's computer earlier in the day, sunset was at least half an hour away, but Eric was so old.

I must have dozed off, because when I woke up, fifteen or so minutes had passed and the sky was streaked with navy blue. It had become much darker. I decided to watch the night descend on Bon Temps. I watched as the last strands of gold left the sky. I watched the last strains of red as the sun was swallowed up by the black velvet of the sky. The jaguar had extinguished its prey, devouring it whole.

Every sunset is the meeting of the supernatural and it is here, the crossroads to the human world and my world begins, for I'm one of them too.

Woo. I haven't felt this nervous letting go of a fic since my first popped my FF cherry lol.

So, I did intend for this to be a oneshot, but I felt a plotbunny that's been twisting in my mind for awhile, but I didn't expect this to be 15 word pages. And I know I have people to get on my ass to actually finish this thing. Eric and Sookie were actually supposed to resolve themselves in the oneshot, but since it's not a oneshot anymore…you shall be tortured! *Evil Laugh* Not too much, I promise. There just needs to be some tension. I realized the natural ending of this chapter was the sun setting, but I wanted Eric in there and he sort of naturally inserted his behind in there through Sookie's semi flashback musings. And because I REALLY wanted to write Eric lol.

As for Labyrinth…I had to think of a movie that Sookie could have conceivably watched as a kid being born in 78…so…and yes, I do have a thing for cult classics.

I'm thinking the next chapter will be called Sweet Emotion. Sweeeeeeeet Eeeemooootiooon.

Would love to hear your feedback.

~simba_317