Authors Note;; I'm not exactly sure where this idea came from. I was just browsing SVM fanfics, and reading some good ones when this song came on and I was thinking of how much Sookie deals with, and how almost any other human would crack under the pressure of the vampire world. And BAM. Plot! I'm not sure where this is going, but I'm going to let what wants to be written, be written. This takes place after Dead & Gone, so it might hold some spoilers. This is my first attempt at a SVM fiction, and I hope I get the characterization right, because I would hate to change them.

Disclaimer;; I don't own anything. The characters belong to Charlaine Harris. But what I wouldn't give to have my very own Eric Northman. Sigh. I also don't own "Perfectly Flawed", that belongs to OTEP.

If you do this
If you do this you'll never have the chance to try again
If you do this you'll never have the chance to try.
It's the same sound
The same sting
The same collapse
Of everything.

"Eric?"

"Yes, Dear One?"

"Why don't you ever take me swimming? I'd like to go swimming."

A sigh escaped his lips, followed by a sad smile as a large finger stroked down her spine, and he was rewarded with a shy, wide eyed glance of jumbled blue depths. "Because I am vampire, lover. I can't go out in the sunlight."

How many times had she asked him something pertaining to his disability to move during the day? It was a danger enough for him to be with her as much as he was. But he trusted no one else to care for her. No one else even knew her whereabouts, currently.

Except Pam.

His child was the only other being who held the knowledge of where his primary resting place was, the house he'd invited Sookie to reside in just weeks before, and she'd steadfastly rejected his offer.

What he wouldn't give to have that fiery, stubborn telepath back once more.

Cerulean eyes fell upon his broken bonded, and his hardened stare turned wistful as a twinge of regret rose in his unbeating heart. It wasn't fair of him to wish for such things. It wasn't her fault she had been left in pieces.

Wasn't her fault he hadn't been there to save her.

As his gaze swept over her form, much slighter now since it was a challenge to convince her she wanted to eat over the past few months, he felt a wave of joy brush at him over the bond, originating from her. He'd given her his blood when she was being most difficult, refusing to eat. Anything involving himself, he found, she would accept. His blood, his touch, his company. Why that was, even he couldn't fathom, since she had been so insistent of not needing him before she'd....cracked.

Cracked.

What an inadequate way to put it.

Her strong willed, defiant, spunky mind had finally had enough, it seemed. And even someone as spectacularly strong as Sookie had been had their limits. After those fucking fairies had their twisted way with her, somewhere among her process of healing she'd just lost it.

He'd come to visit her as soon as he was capable of after dealing with the mess, and she'd been fine. She'd been in no shape to have any sexual relations, but he'd been understanding of that as he hadn't expected it of her so soon after her injuries.

A few visits had shown things returning to normal, and then one night he'd shown up...

And Sookie had been sitting on her kitchen floor, without so much as a stitch on her body, her silken blonde locks stained with the blood from the raw ground beef she had setting in between her knees. The blood was smeared on her face, and she'd looked up at him with confused eyes when he'd asked what she was dong.

"I'm eating dinner." She'd replied, blue eyes looking at him as if that wasn't quite obvious.

"I don't know much about human food, but don't you think you should cook it first, dearest?" He'd been almost sure that humans weren't supposed to eat raw animal meat in such a way. He'd been frozen in the frame of her back door, simply staring down at her and knowing something wasn't right. Even the bond had felt different, like it wasn't as...stable as before, more jumbled, but strong as ever. He'd faintly smelled the scent of something burning, and it smelled simply rancid.

She'd waved a casual hand at him, as if to brush his words aside, as her free hand clawed free another clump of reeking meat, and her blunt teeth had ripped a piece off. "Silly vampire. This doesn't need to be cooked, that needs to be cooked."

Her following point to the oven, and the resounding laugh that echoed throughout the walls of her remodeled kitchen had set the feeling of something terribly amiss in his stomach to stone. His acute sense of smell had informed him something was indeed burning to her oven, and he moved over to it with a growing feeling of dread swirling about his stomach, and deftly popped it open.

The instant the lid open, the putrid smell had permeated the air even more powerfully, and his nose had wrinkled in response. A thick black smoke had wafted out, and had his sight not been so enhanced due to his vampirism, he wouldn't have recognized was laid on the burning hot tray within.

A hand, the fingers curled as if to lovingly cup the cheek of whomever it had been reaching for.

It was in that moment, with the foul smelling scent invading his nostrils and Sookie nibbling away behind him, that the realization had sunk in.

She'd lost her mind.

Through very careful questioning, and a confirmation from Bill, he'd found out that Bill had come to her before he himself had gotten a chance to make his way there. Bill had been visiting to inform Sookie he'd healed from the silver poisoning, and somehow throughout the day she'd just...lost it.

When Bill had reached out to cup her cheek and inquire as to if she was alright, she'd used the trowel she'd had clasped in her hand, insisting the fairies would return for her if she didn't have some protection against them, with enough force to sever the vampire's hand.

Of course, if she had not had Eric's blood only days before she would have never been able to swing with enough force as to sever it.

According to Bill, he had fled the scene, not wanting to risk another episode, and called Fangtasia to inform Eric of the odd events, thinking maybe Sookie was under a spell of something. Bill would heal.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure if Sookie would or not.

And now, a month later, he was still unsure as to what had pushed his lovely telepath to her breaking point. Whatever it had been had happened during the day, and so it was nearly impossible for him to find out. And she couldn't give him an answer. The one time he'd asked, she covered her ears and hummed as loud as she was capable of.

Answers or no answers, she was in no condition to live by herself.

And so, she'd nearly become nocturnal to match his schedule. Pam had temporarily taken over the bar, to his chagrin. Not that Pam was incapable. Fangtasia was his...well, it was his baby, and he resented being away from the business.

But Sookie needed him. And he trusted no one else with his precious bonded.

She hadn't lost her mind in the sense that she couldn't at least take care of herself to some extent. She just seemed to forget many things, and not be able to understand them when explained to her. She would sometimes talk to someone who wasn't really there, and disaster occurred whenever she was within arms reach of a sharp object. She'd almost cut her own finger off once, and she'd mangled her gorgeous blonde hair by taking a scissors to it. It still retained it's almost length, falling softly below her breasts, but a few errant strands were cut to short, choppy strands.

Her once defiant, lively eyes almost always held a hesitant questioning in them. As they did right now, when he answered her question about swimming. Just like why couldn't they lay in the yard and sun bathe, she loved the sun so much. Why couldn't she see Amelia. Why couldn't she fix up his backyard into a garden. Why couldn't she answer Sam's incessant voicemails inquiring where her is, and if she is even still alive.

And Eric, why don't you make love to me anymore?

That caused another jab of guilt in his gut, and a small frowned pulled down the corners of his lips. Every second he was with her his libido urged him to take her. On the island in his kitchen, on the various couches and chairs, and, even better, his massive bed.

Something in him felt odd, as if to do so would be taking advantage of her.

A nasty little voice in the back of his mind told him she'd had no qualms about accepting his advances when he hadn't been himself.

He pushed that thought away hastily, scolding himself silently for even allowing that thought to the forefront of his mind. He had also expressed dire interest in having sex with Sookie while he was still in his right mind.

But then again, hadn't she as well? Hadn't she willingly accepted him, even encourage him, into her bed only briefly before the attack on her? Hadn't they been working things out?

His thoughts were forgotten when Sookie slowly ambled over to him, crawling into his lap and curling into a ball. He'd been reclined on one of his large leather couches, staring idly at the fire he'd built just minutes ago.

Sookie liked the warmth. It reminded her of the sun.

He dropped his chin, nesting it behind her head and inhaling the scent of her hair. It sent warm tingles over his skin, and made his inner animal roar. He, of course, had not slept with anyone since he'd last had her and the affect on him was simply maddening. Being a very sexual creature, the fact that she was more than willing didn't help his stand point at all.

As if reading his mind, which he knew she couldn't, her small hands came to spread their fingers over his broad chest, scraping lightly down the length of his torso until they reached the top of his pants.

He groaned at the touch, his body reacting immediately but he, by a fucking miracle, managed to rein it in. One hand clasped her fragile wrists within his hold, while the other brushed her hair aside and curled around the bottom of her skull. She tilted her head back to look at him with hurt, confused eyes.

"Why don't you ever want me anymore? Don't you love me?"

Those words froze him where he sat.

Did he love her? Yes. That went without question, because there was no way in the seven levels of hell he'd do everything he'd done for her over the course of knowing her for anyone else.

But he'd never admitted so to her when she'd been...sane. Would it be right to admit to it, now that she wasn't all there?

On the chance that she'd come back to him as she had been one day, when he resolved what had snapped her in the first place (which, mark his words, he would), would she remember? Would he resent him for keeping her hidden away rather than institutionalizing her?

No, he couldn't believe that.

Sookie would never want to be locked up that way.

If anything, he hoped she'd be grateful to him for hiding her away, and not letting anyone else see her this way. He'd persuaded her to phone Sam, when this had all begun, and luckily the shifter hadn't answered. He'd written on a piece of paper what she was supposed to say, and she'd obediently done as she was told, telling Sam that she'd been injured in the attack of a Supe and she'd give him details later, but for now she was going away to heal.

Sam had called him, of course, and he had feigned innocence as to her whereabouts.

He hadn't even entrusted Pam with his secret, but someone had to buy human food for him while he stayed with her. He hated leaving her to herself for even the briefest moments.

Snapping back to the current moment, with his crazy little blonde staring at him like a doe caught in the headlights, he cursed softly. "Sookie, that is not the case."

The sight of her tears was his downfall.

"Then what is it?"

What could he say? 'Because you're not in your right mind and it wouldn't be right'? 'You've gone crazy, lover, and I don't want you to accuse me of taking care of you for selfish reasons when you come to your senses'?

Obviously not.

A gentle kiss to her forehead was made, and when she tilted her face up with a hopeful expression in place, he wouldn't resist the temptation to brush his lips just briefly over her soft, trembling ones as she closed her eyes in pleasure.

Relinquishing control of her mind had allowed her true desires to shine through. Of course, that didn't mean she was begging him to be with her for all of time or giving herself to him in complete submission. He was glad to see at least some of his Sookie remained. But, if the urge to kiss him, or make love with him, or say or do a certain thing with him arose, she usually acted on it.

"I'm just not in the mood, Dear One." He assured her, lying through his teeth. Oh, he was in the mood. It was taking ever bit of will power for his member not to bounce up and say hello to her at her slightest shift in his lap.

If his abstinence didn't show how much he truly cared for her, he didn't know what would. She hadn't asked it of him, but he felt she would know if he released his tension with another.

Plus, he couldn't leave her alone for that long.

In the warm glow of the fire, her smooth, satiny skin was bathed in light, and her eyes shone as they looked up at him. Doubt clouded them, and a small, almost pouting frown arose on her perfect lips.

Well, shit. He hated, absolutely hated when she looked at him like that.

And what made it even worse was the tears still sparkled within the blue depths.

A flare of irritation rose. He'd give almost anything for his Sookie back. Even if she chose that insipid Bill Compton over him, at least he could sleep at sunrise knowing she was herself.

This being cuddled up to him was a mere shell of Sookie Stackhouse.

But she, of course, was still his.

And that was through anything, and he knew that even if she were to never regain her senses, he would stick by her side until either death or something else equally inevitable forced him away.

He allowed himself to delicately run his fingers through her hair, knowing it comforted her. She sighed in content, tucking her head under his jaw, but one hand still swirled teasing circles over his chest.

"Well, whenever you are in the mood then." She commented.

He sighed. 'That won't happen until you're better.' He lamented silently. But she felt his turmoil over the bond. Since she'd digested more of his blood, they were more attuned to each other and their emotions.

A frown rose, and scared, blue eyes flickered up to him once more. "Eric...What's wrong with me? I feel like I should be something, someone else. But this is all I can be."

He studied her face briefly, using the hints of emotion riding through the bond to dechipher what she wanted to hear. She'd asked him this a few times, randomly. She knew something was off with her life. She remembered what her life had been like before. But her mind had been reduced to an almost childish way of thinking, hence her questioning everything.

And each time she asked, he always responded that there was absolutely nothing wrong.

But every time he did, she knew he lied.

He considered his words, before carefully answering her.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You are who you can be. And it's my fault you are this way."

"Don't say that."

"It's only the truth."

"You'll keep me, though. Right?" That terrified gaze met his once more, and his chest tightened painfully. He resented the strong affect she had on him of course, but he couldn't hold it against her.

She'd gotten under his skin. And it wouldn't be right of him to only want her around when he could only have the best of her. After all, she'd stuck by him when he'd needed her the most.

And now he would do the same.

"Of course I'll keep you, lover. Rest assured that I will set things to rights. Do you trust me?" He questioned, his index finger chucking her just under the chin.

A warm smile answered him, followed by a nod.

"Then believe in me. And believe me when I say I will make sure you...heal."

He'd carefully chosen that word, but the meaning was powerful yet gentle enough to make sense to her. She nodded, and looked at him oddly, like she was considering something and trying to work herself up to do it, before soft lips descended on his once more.

He gave in with a sigh. What harm could kissing her bring? The hand under her chin slid up to cup her cheek, the irony was not lost on him that her ex had lost his hand for this very act, and she released a breath in relief, pressing herself further into him.

He resisted the urge to groan as his gracious plenty popped up to say hello once more.

That was the harm.

____________________________________________________________________

Authors Note;; So I'm not sure if I like this or not. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue or let it be where it is, and just call it a one shot. What are your opinions?

The idea was random, and as I said I'm not sure if I like it. The hand idea came from...Well, think about it. Gruesome things often happen in the Sookieverse, things we don't expect, yes? Well, that was unexpected and it was the most effective way to confirm Eric's suspicions. This seemed odd, and I wrote it in about four hours. But the idea just popped up and was bouncing around, and I just wanted to get it out. So should I continue? Leave it as it is? I'm terribly unsure.

-Lollirot