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Fic. After the Dawn
After the Dawn [True Blood, Eric/Sookie, PG-13, 1600 words, spoilers for episode 2x09, I don't own any of the characters in True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries, much to my dismay.]
After the Dawn
The sun had risen high in the sky above Dallas, amidst a beautiful blue sky.
Sookie Stackhouse sat cross-legged on the rooftop staring into empty space. She didn't see the buildings that surrounded and dwarfed the Hotel Camilla. She didn't hear the traffic on the street below, the sounds of life going on around her.
She was sleeping with her eyes wide open, but she couldn't compel herself to move. Not yet.
Godric had died a fiery death; a final, eternal death. That he'd done so with such dignity, such inhuman grace was astonishing and heartbreaking and Sookie knew she had never seen anything like it before, and it was unlikely she would see it again. In the short time (too short) that she'd known the two-thousand year old vampire, he'd proven that not all vampires were driven by their need of blood.
Godric had wanted more.
She should have gone back to her hotel room, but she knew that by the time she'd returned Bill would already have been fast asleep, dead to the world around him. As tired as she was, she couldn't sleep.
Not yet.
Jason found her sometime after lunch, her stomach painfully reminding her that she'd hadn't eaten since the previous night, and she'd relaxed in his company. Her brother had grown up more in the last few days than he had in his entire life and she was so proud of him. She hoped that it held. Jason could be a great man, if he set his mind to it, and as long as he was determined to stick it out, she'd stand there, right beside him.
He disappeared soon after; outside or to his hotel room she wasn't sure. He wanted some time alone, too. She could read that clearly. For all his growing up, he'd made a pile of mistakes big enough to bury the hotel clear under and he was still trying to understand what he'd done, and why. She was, too.
She had her own mistakes to contend with.
"You'll take care of him? Eric?"
Godric's words echoed around inside her mind and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Eric didn't need to be taken care of; the vampire clearly knew how to keep his own neck above the water, and he certainly knew how to take advantage of everyone around him. That she had plenty of examples lined up to throw back at him. But his Maker's words resonated with the Eric in her dream.
Sookie felt her cheeks flush red and she was glad she was sitting alone on the lounge of the hotel room with a dog-eared copy of one of her favourite romance novels. The Eric in her dream had been surreal, not-quite real, but altogether too convincing to not be. She blamed the blood bond, and had put his demeanour down to her own wishful thinking that the Viking vampire was nicer. More human.
Now she wondered if the bond was something more than even Bill understood. Lord knew she didn't get it. She certainly didn't want it, but she couldn't get rid of it either.
She bit her lip and looked at the clock. It was approaching five o'clock. Some of the vampires would start to rise soon. She knew from experience that Bill would probably awaken sometime before six, and she figured that gave her enough time.
She'd barely begun knocking on the wooden door to Eric's room when it opened.
The Eric standing before her was a sight to behold; she doubted the vampire had ever looked as disheveled or tired as he did now. She didn't blame him. He stared at her, but it was like she wasn't even there.
"May I come in?" she asked politely. She would never let it be said that she hadn't been raised well.
He didn't reply, just stepped aside to let her in. It was disconcerting; he should have been baiting her with a well-rehearsed line, or commenting on the ease in which he'd tricked her the night of the bombing.
The room was dark, unsurprisingly, bare but for the furniture. She thought back to the state of the living room of her suite, and the pile of dressing gowns, the paperback novel and shoes decorating the floor. The doors to the bedroom were open; the bed behind them looked untouched. She let herself wonder where he'd slept for a moment, before drawing herself back into the now.
Eric sunk down into the lounge and looked at her expectantly.
She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself and sat down quietly on the lounge opposite him. 'How are you?' seemed trite, and she knew that the loss of a loved one deserved more than uncomfortable sympathies. Now that she was here she was at a loss for words.
She swallowed hard and looked away from his face. It was impassive and she found that difficult to deal with.
"You stayed with him?"
His voice broke the silence and she nodded. She could feel the tears that threatened to escape from her eyes as the memories of the dawn come flooding back.
"I did," she told him. "Right 'til the end." She bit her bottom lip. "He was…"
The words died on her lips again, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek. "He saved my life. He was proof that vampires and humans could exist peacefully and now he's gone. I didn't even know him very long, but I would have wanted to know him a lot longer."
Though the room was dark Sookie saw the dark red stain in the corner of Eric's eye, and she closed her eyes tight, took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "He cared for you, very much," she said, knowing the words were true. She might not know much about vampire traditions, but it was clear that the bond between a vampire and their Maker could be strong, nigh unbreakable. (She also had evidence to the contrary, but that was a whole other kettle of fish.)
He was unmoving. Normally she was used to the stillness of the vampires, but it just added to her uncomfortableness. She laced her fingers together, tight.
A single line of red wetness ran down one cheek, stark against the white of his skin.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Eric."
He blinked, the first movement since she'd started to speak and it was enough to crack the tension in the room. "Did he tell you why?" His voice was so soft, so uncharacteristic of Eric that she wasn't sure she'd heard it at first.
She shook her head slowly. "Not in so many words. I think he wanted peace, and he thought he couldn't find it here anymore. Maybe he thought he'd seen too much? Maybe he thought it would make a difference? You knew him a lot better than I did, Eric, and I don't know if I'll ever understand it."
"He was my Maker," Eric replied, his words slow and deliberate, "and even I don't know if I'll ever understand his actions or his choices."
"He made you," she reminded him, "and he was very proud of you." That much had been evident. Watching their goodbye on the rooftop had near broken her heart. "He wanted you to live."
Eric snorted – an indelicate sound for a vampire, and Sookie wondered if vampires suffered from hysteria because normally he was quite capable of containing his emotions. "To live. How ironic for a vampire."
That almost sounded like the old Eric.
She chanced his mood. "He wanted me to take care of you," she told him, and watched as his eyes became more alert. She waved her hand. "I reminded him that you didn't need someone to watch over you. You're pretty good at taking of yourself."
His expression looked almost thoughtful. "Is that so?"
She nodded. The clock on the wall read 5:46, and her brow furrowed in surprise. They'd sat, unspeaking, for longer than she'd thought. She cleared her throat and stood up, surprised when he rose with her.
"You came here to tell me all that?" he asked, watching her carefully now. "Why?"
She shrugged. "I owed it to Godric," she replied simply, ignoring the way his gaze sent a shiver down her back. Now was not the time that that.
"You weren't checking up on me?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to check up on?" She regretted it instantly.
His teeth flashed white beneath a broad smile, and she held up a finger. "Don't answer that," she told him, crossing the floor to the entrance.
He followed, staying a few steps behind, and she wondered if he was trying not to spook her. He lay a hand on her shoulder, his skin cold and dry compared to her own warm skin. His expression had reverted to seriousness. "Thank you for staying with him." 'When I could not,' went unspoken.
She tried not to think about his hand. Just as seriously, she told him, "I was honoured."
She bit her lip again, and sighed. "When we get back home, everything's going to go back to the way it was before Dallas, isn't it?" Eric would go back to being Eric, she'd go back to being a bartender in the small town she called home. Except for the blood bond, and the fact that she knew somewhere, deep down, Eric hid who he was, and she knew she was in too deep with vampire politics.
He held her gaze for a moment, before looking away. "I don't know. Do you want it to change?"
"I don't know."
She turned to open the door, moving just enough that his hand slid off her shoulder and broke the physical contact. After coming to his room willingly, she wanted nothing more than to escape. It would have been a lot easier to go on hating him.
Now she wasn't sure how she felt.
The sun had risen high in the sky above Dallas, amidst a beautiful blue sky.
Sookie Stackhouse sat cross-legged on the rooftop staring into empty space. She didn't see the buildings that surrounded and dwarfed the Hotel Camilla. She didn't hear the traffic on the street below, the sounds of life going on around her.
She was sleeping with her eyes wide open, but she couldn't compel herself to move. Not yet.
Godric had died a fiery death; a final, eternal death. That he'd done so with such dignity, such inhuman grace was astonishing and heartbreaking and Sookie knew she had never seen anything like it before, and it was unlikely she would see it again. In the short time (too short) that she'd known the two-thousand year old vampire, he'd proven that not all vampires were driven by their need of blood.
Godric had wanted more.
She should have gone back to her hotel room, but she knew that by the time she'd returned Bill would already have been fast asleep, dead to the world around him. As tired as she was, she couldn't sleep.
Not yet.
Jason found her sometime after lunch, her stomach painfully reminding her that she'd hadn't eaten since the previous night, and she'd relaxed in his company. Her brother had grown up more in the last few days than he had in his entire life and she was so proud of him. She hoped that it held. Jason could be a great man, if he set his mind to it, and as long as he was determined to stick it out, she'd stand there, right beside him.
He disappeared soon after; outside or to his hotel room she wasn't sure. He wanted some time alone, too. She could read that clearly. For all his growing up, he'd made a pile of mistakes big enough to bury the hotel clear under and he was still trying to understand what he'd done, and why. She was, too.
She had her own mistakes to contend with.
"You'll take care of him? Eric?"
Godric's words echoed around inside her mind and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Eric didn't need to be taken care of; the vampire clearly knew how to keep his own neck above the water, and he certainly knew how to take advantage of everyone around him. That she had plenty of examples lined up to throw back at him. But his Maker's words resonated with the Eric in her dream.
Sookie felt her cheeks flush red and she was glad she was sitting alone on the lounge of the hotel room with a dog-eared copy of one of her favourite romance novels. The Eric in her dream had been surreal, not-quite real, but altogether too convincing to not be. She blamed the blood bond, and had put his demeanour down to her own wishful thinking that the Viking vampire was nicer. More human.
Now she wondered if the bond was something more than even Bill understood. Lord knew she didn't get it. She certainly didn't want it, but she couldn't get rid of it either.
She bit her lip and looked at the clock. It was approaching five o'clock. Some of the vampires would start to rise soon. She knew from experience that Bill would probably awaken sometime before six, and she figured that gave her enough time.
She'd barely begun knocking on the wooden door to Eric's room when it opened.
The Eric standing before her was a sight to behold; she doubted the vampire had ever looked as disheveled or tired as he did now. She didn't blame him. He stared at her, but it was like she wasn't even there.
"May I come in?" she asked politely. She would never let it be said that she hadn't been raised well.
He didn't reply, just stepped aside to let her in. It was disconcerting; he should have been baiting her with a well-rehearsed line, or commenting on the ease in which he'd tricked her the night of the bombing.
The room was dark, unsurprisingly, bare but for the furniture. She thought back to the state of the living room of her suite, and the pile of dressing gowns, the paperback novel and shoes decorating the floor. The doors to the bedroom were open; the bed behind them looked untouched. She let herself wonder where he'd slept for a moment, before drawing herself back into the now.
Eric sunk down into the lounge and looked at her expectantly.
She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself and sat down quietly on the lounge opposite him. 'How are you?' seemed trite, and she knew that the loss of a loved one deserved more than uncomfortable sympathies. Now that she was here she was at a loss for words.
She swallowed hard and looked away from his face. It was impassive and she found that difficult to deal with.
"You stayed with him?"
His voice broke the silence and she nodded. She could feel the tears that threatened to escape from her eyes as the memories of the dawn come flooding back.
"I did," she told him. "Right 'til the end." She bit her bottom lip. "He was…"
The words died on her lips again, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek. "He saved my life. He was proof that vampires and humans could exist peacefully and now he's gone. I didn't even know him very long, but I would have wanted to know him a lot longer."
Though the room was dark Sookie saw the dark red stain in the corner of Eric's eye, and she closed her eyes tight, took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "He cared for you, very much," she said, knowing the words were true. She might not know much about vampire traditions, but it was clear that the bond between a vampire and their Maker could be strong, nigh unbreakable. (She also had evidence to the contrary, but that was a whole other kettle of fish.)
He was unmoving. Normally she was used to the stillness of the vampires, but it just added to her uncomfortableness. She laced her fingers together, tight.
A single line of red wetness ran down one cheek, stark against the white of his skin.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Eric."
He blinked, the first movement since she'd started to speak and it was enough to crack the tension in the room. "Did he tell you why?" His voice was so soft, so uncharacteristic of Eric that she wasn't sure she'd heard it at first.
She shook her head slowly. "Not in so many words. I think he wanted peace, and he thought he couldn't find it here anymore. Maybe he thought he'd seen too much? Maybe he thought it would make a difference? You knew him a lot better than I did, Eric, and I don't know if I'll ever understand it."
"He was my Maker," Eric replied, his words slow and deliberate, "and even I don't know if I'll ever understand his actions or his choices."
"He made you," she reminded him, "and he was very proud of you." That much had been evident. Watching their goodbye on the rooftop had near broken her heart. "He wanted you to live."
Eric snorted – an indelicate sound for a vampire, and Sookie wondered if vampires suffered from hysteria because normally he was quite capable of containing his emotions. "To live. How ironic for a vampire."
That almost sounded like the old Eric.
She chanced his mood. "He wanted me to take care of you," she told him, and watched as his eyes became more alert. She waved her hand. "I reminded him that you didn't need someone to watch over you. You're pretty good at taking of yourself."
His expression looked almost thoughtful. "Is that so?"
She nodded. The clock on the wall read 5:46, and her brow furrowed in surprise. They'd sat, unspeaking, for longer than she'd thought. She cleared her throat and stood up, surprised when he rose with her.
"You came here to tell me all that?" he asked, watching her carefully now. "Why?"
She shrugged. "I owed it to Godric," she replied simply, ignoring the way his gaze sent a shiver down her back. Now was not the time that that.
"You weren't checking up on me?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to check up on?" She regretted it instantly.
His teeth flashed white beneath a broad smile, and she held up a finger. "Don't answer that," she told him, crossing the floor to the entrance.
He followed, staying a few steps behind, and she wondered if he was trying not to spook her. He lay a hand on her shoulder, his skin cold and dry compared to her own warm skin. His expression had reverted to seriousness. "Thank you for staying with him." 'When I could not,' went unspoken.
She tried not to think about his hand. Just as seriously, she told him, "I was honoured."
She bit her lip again, and sighed. "When we get back home, everything's going to go back to the way it was before Dallas, isn't it?" Eric would go back to being Eric, she'd go back to being a bartender in the small town she called home. Except for the blood bond, and the fact that she knew somewhere, deep down, Eric hid who he was, and she knew she was in too deep with vampire politics.
He held her gaze for a moment, before looking away. "I don't know. Do you want it to change?"
"I don't know."
She turned to open the door, moving just enough that his hand slid off her shoulder and broke the physical contact. After coming to his room willingly, she wanted nothing more than to escape. It would have been a lot easier to go on hating him.
Now she wasn't sure how she felt.