Sookie Takes Charge, Ch. 12

**A/N:  I’ll be brutally honest – this is mostly a “where is Eric emotionally and mentally” chapter.  There’s no Sookie, there’s no Godric, yadda.  There may be some slightly-unintentional humor in the writing style (It just happened that way, but I liked it so I kept it.).  Also, I have NOT forgotten Billius, either, sadly.   I just don’t like him therefore I’m applying “avoidance therapy” to all-things-Beehl for the nonce.  I’m pretty sure most of y’all won’t mind, lol, but yeah, we’ll have to get Beehl’d again at some point (icky face – I should post some Brain Bleach for that, right?) – just not in THIS chapter, dammit.  Disclaimery crap that I never remember to do because I have it perma-posted on my site:  I own nothing but the plot and the characters I’ve invented.  All mistakes are mine own to bear/laugh at later.  Hope you like!**

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Sitting on the sofa in Sookie’s living room, Eric allowed the soft noise of the electricity humming through the wiring to lull him into downtime. So far the short night had been very long indeed, and he once again mentally thanked Sookie for giving him the peace and quiet he needed to process everything.

His Maker was alive.

His Maker was well.

He even had a way of staying in contact with him.

Finally the noises of the old house settling for the night roused him from his downtime, and he rose to yet again wash the dried remains of his tears from his face.

Damn but he was tired of crying, but at least these had been joyous tears.

As he stood before the mirror in the small bathroom that he wished he’d had enlarged when he had the chance, he stared at his face. Surely after all the night’s upheavals he should look somehow different, right?

Not only was his Maker alive and well and in contact with him, but Sookie…

He stared hard at his face again, and still no changes were apparent even with his enhanced vision. He scoffed at his reflection and left the bathroom after hanging his face cloth to dry.  With a grimace he realized that this was something his former self would never have thought to do.

Hell, he didn’t even tidy up after himself at his own place – that’s what glamoured maids were for, but this was Sookie’s home.  While he didn’t understand her strange distaste for the old place now, it was still his duty to respect it and get it back to her as soon as he could.

After making sure that the house was as secure as it could be, he descended into the cubby. He had a lot of thinking to do, and wanted to do it in peace.

Peace that, for once, Sookie herself had given him.

Ah, Sookie…

Since she had first come into his unlife, thinking about things he’d rather not think about had pretty much become the norm. Bluntly, her “magical powers” didn’t involve just telepathy and fairy magic – she was also quite talented as a disturber of the peace…HIS peace…

Only now…now that she was back in his unlife after being gone so long, for some reason he found that he didn’t mind so much having his peace disturbed.

Said peace, however, was slightly less disturbed after dealing with darling Pamela’s failure to heal Sookie after he and fucking Edgington had almost drained the telepath. His Child knew it would be her responsibility to heal the fairy hybrid, that the moment the ancient vampire exited Fangtasia she – not Compton – was to give Sookie enough of her blood to heal the large gash in her neck and restore her to health.

She was not to sit on her lazy ass watching the monitors as Sookie bled out on some table.

After her excuses, and he could tell she truly had been heartbroken that her Maker was burning in the sun, came her snide remarks regarding Sookie. This reminded Eric of her oddly growing jealousy. He couldn’t understand where that resentment had come from – their association had never been romantic, and the sexual component of their time together had barely lasted long enough to remember. As far as he could tell, Pam had no reason to feel any sort of jealousy.

He did see it as a growing problem, however, and decided to put a stop to it immediately.

The Maker’s Command he had chosen for her punishment seemed appropriate: no sitting on her ass for two solid weeks. He had been going to make it last for a month since Sookie had almost died due in part to Pam’s uncaring attitude, but relented after taking into consideration how the possibility of his death would have affected her. She could of course rest for the day as normal, but upon rising she was to remain standing until it was once again time for her day rest. He may have also commanded her to wear her highest heels during this time.

Pam was a vampire, so it wasn’t as though standing for the night would actually harm her.

And Sookie could have died, after all.

Then, in a kinder tone but laden with just as much of his Maker’s power, he had commanded Pam to no longer feel jealousy over Sookie, and to be as concerned for the fairy-hybrid’s comfort and safety as she was for his own. He wasn’t sure how well the ‘no jealousy’ part would work, but figured the other part of his command would cover the necessary bases.

He could always add more later if need be. It wasn’t as though he would stop caring about Sookie any time soon.

Caring…how mild a word to describe the cause of the feelings that roared through his system.

He knew that earlier in the night he’d had an epiphany of sorts. Combing back through his memories as he settled down on the bed in the cubby, he realized that while he truly had regretted his past actions, and that he had genuinely somewhat revised the way he’d regarded her, until earlier that evening he had never honestly considered that she was her own person.

That she wasn’t a pawn that he could use whenever he wanted and for whatever reason.

That she wasn’t an asset he could simply pick up, use, then cast aside at his discretion.

That she wasn’t required to like or tolerate or submit to him in any way.

That she was…Sookie.

His head reeled as the full force of his own arrogance hit him.

Then came the rising tide of humility.

Even after all that, even after he had abused her trust, kidnapped her body, and painfully used her blood with no prior warning and without her permission after lulling her with the most perfect kiss in either of his lives…

Even after he had then come to her at the hotel – not to apologize but to smooth things over enough that he might procure her services for the upcoming conference and perhaps her body for his pleasure and convenience…

Even after he had shown up that very night to persuade her by any means necessary to work for him once again…

Even after all that, she had still shown him grace.

Shame thickened the back of his throat.

He had no selfish illusions that she’d brought the letter for his own sake, rather he knew that she did so for Godric, but still, it counted. And when he had accosted her immediately upon her exit from the Portal, she hadn’t used the full force of her power against him as by rights she should have.

And she had held him while he cried like a baby in the comfort of her arms.

And she had welcomed him into what was ethically – and would soon be again – her home…had allowed him to salvage his pride by letting him clean away the evidence of his breakdown.

And she had offered him the solitude she must have known he would need to come to terms with the events of the evening.

And she had even left him her phone number.

Truly, her grace and compassion, especially in light of his previous use of her, brought him to his knees.

Eric turned over on his side, brought his knees up, and held his pillow with both hands.

And then there was Godric.

Finding out that his beloved Maker had not died, that he had in fact gone to fucking Fairy, had been one hell of a shock. That, combined with the information in the letter, had provided him with a peace he had never expected to feel again, and it also worried him on Godric’s behalf.

Eric ached to be in his Maker’s presence again – of course he did, yet, if being in this Realm had stolen the light from his soul, it wasn’t worth it. If Sookie would consent to transporting correspondence between himself and his Maker, he would be more than content.

He would have to be, and he fully acknowledged that it was far more than he had before this night.

As dawn approached, Eric looked forward to his dayrest but for an entirely different reason than usual. When he rose that evening, he planned to write his Maker back, which would be the perfect excuse to call Sookie…at the phone number…that she had left for him.

As he slipped into his dayrest, Eric smiled. He had plan to implement, amends to make, the first of many letters to write, and a Sookie to call.

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**A/N:  Annnnd that’s “where” our Eric is right now:  in his cubby, curled up on his bed, cuddling his pillow, and smiling.  A smiling Eric is a very, very good thing – especially for our Sookie!  😀   So:  What did you think?**

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