Title: Counting Bodies Like Sheep

Rating: 16+, M

Contains: Violence, language, rape, possible character death, and graphic sexual content between males.

Spoilers: General spoilers through season 3.

Summary: With the fulfillment of his revenge against Edgington for the death of his human family, Eric finds himself hallucinating about his creator, Godric. Eric, unsure of his madness, reminisces on the history between himself and his maker. Distraught with grief and anger, Eric decides to promote his own form of self-destructive therapy.

-Counting Bodies Like Sheep-

Part 1.

...

"Don't fret precious I'm here, step away from the window.

Go back to sleep...safe from pain, and truth, and choice, and all the poison devils.'

-'Counting Bodies Like Sheep' by A Perfect Circle

...

Shreveport, Louisiana.

"Forgiveness is love."

Eric lay uncomfortably on the cement ground of Fangtasia's basement at high noon. He was utterly alone, ignoring the painful throb throughout his body as blood slowly dripped from his ear canals and nostrils, his face covered in sludge blood tears. He could not rest, even if Pam had practically snarled at him for refusing to take to ground for a much-needed sleep over two days ago. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep, but when he did, his dreams disturbed him, caused him more pain than the daylight bleeds. The daylight bleeding was a paper cut compared to the agonizing visions Eric encountered during his rest.

He stared at the renovated ceiling. There was not much to see, but Eric saw it all the same. Every groove, every vein in the concrete was discernable with his heightened vampire vision.

"Eric."

Eric did not blink. He did not want to. If he did, he knew what he would see, and the haunting image of his dead maker, the one vampire Eric honored above all others, was a vision that would leave him broken on the floor for the next millennia.

Although leaving his eyes open was a challenge as well, considering he had Godric frequenting him in vivid hallucinations, speaking in their ancient tongue, offering guidance and compassion when Eric deserved neither.

He tried to make sense of what his maker had done, tried to comprehend the sadness, the depravity of the vampire condition of which Godric had spoken of before meeting the true death. Sookie had described to him in detail what had happened, and although it had been quick and glorious, beautiful even, the crushing weight of loss and sudden loneliness had nearly blinded Eric.

It had crushed him. It still crushed him.

He was already dead, but it festered, eating him from the inside out, and there was no one that could understand that. Eric was no longer a Viking king, but the honor and arrogance of his people ran deeper than any vampire instinct. He would always be cruel first, a calculator, a warrior, a predator. He had confided in no one in his human life and he sure as hell was not about to confide in anyone now that he was immortal.

Immortality only made him muse on Godric. Godric had gifted him this life of eternal darkness and he was thankful for it.

"There is a thousand years of companionship and love between us."

The soft melodic voice in his mind finally made Eric close his eyes and suck in a deep breath through his nose, his ancient mind conjuring up crystal clear images of his beloved maker, transporting him back in time to his vampire father, his brother, his lover, his only friend. How primitive, how beautiful he had been, blood staining his face as he looked down at a dying Viking on his unlit funeral pyre, offering him eternal companionship and life in the shadows, Godric's voice hypnotic:

"Could you walk through the world in darkness with me? Could you be a companion of Death?"

…

Eric had woken slowly, hearing and smelling before seeing. When his eyes had opened and adjusted to the milky darkness, he knew he was no longer human. This was not death. This was not Valhalla, the heaven of his people. He felt alive, every nerve ending in his body taught, every muscle rigid as his new body began to absorb and process every smell and sound. He could practically taste the mud beneath his body, the stars above his head. The wind felt sharper, stronger, but not colder.

A strange sensation rippled through him, traveling upwards like an arrow to the base of his brain. It was sharp, but not unpleasant, an awareness that had Eric instantly alert to his maker.

The demon had made himself visible, his skin pale as pearls in the moonlight, his tribal marking tattoos strange to Eric's eyes, human or vampire. Eric had never seen markings on the skin like this exquisite creature. A simple sun design around his collar, accentuated by the deep groove of his throat and a necklace made of an animal tooth and claw. The markings on his arms seemed more of design then significance. Even if Eric was a newborn, he could feel the power that radiated from his maker, the countless years of endurance now engrained in his memory and body.

And it was a beautiful body. He was not tall, average height, built solidly but lithely. He was defined subtly, as smooth and uncompromising as marble. He was clothed from the waist down, although he was barefoot. Eric supposed demons had no need for shoes.

His hair was a dark rich brown, like his eyes had been before Eric had changed. Now that Eric had raptor vision, he could appreciate how weak human eyesight was compared to that of vampire. His maker's eyes were deep grey, a molten silver that spoke of primal intelligence.

"Stand," he said softly, his face smiling, "Feel."

Eric did as he was commanded, standing to his full height. He couldn't believe how much taller he was than Death, how he felt the need to get on his knees just from being in his maker's presence.

He did feel it. He was changed. Forever.

He fell to his knees before his maker, before Death, staring into the shifting silver eyes that had promised him life.

"I am Godric," he said, placing his hands on either side of Eric's neck, smoothing back his long blonde hair, "Und fader, und broder, und son."

"Godric," Eric murmured, standing again, still trying to soak in the unnatural beauty. Eric had been notorious in his human life for trying to live his life between a woman's legs, but now all those petty thoughts were erased from his brain and replaced by his new reason for existence.

Pleasing Godric meant everything. He knew, in that moment, that Godric had given him what his human life could not. His family had been taken away from him, war had been his lover and teacher, and now blood would be his new vice, his new obsession.

But a reason for living, for existing…it was right here, right in front of him.

"Come. We must hunt," Godric said, turning his back on his first and only progeny to face unforgiving wilderness of unconquered enemy lands, "I will show you the way of the vampire. You will hunt, and you will kill, and you will feed."

Eric smiled, feeling his canines elongate, unable to contain his excitement, "And I will love it?"

"Yes. You will."

….

"You will go down there and talk some sense into him!"

Eric opened his eyes slowly, jarred from his memory. Pam's voice had been heated and on the edge of anger. Pam did not wear desperate well. If Pam was awake and worrying about him again, he could assume he had daydreamed for several hours and it was now past dusk.

He could sense Sookie defending herself against Pam's tone, but he blocked it from his mind. He did not want to see or talk to anyone, the young danger-magnet Sookie Stackhouse being at the top of that list. He'd seen enough of her in the past month to last him several millennia.

The metal door groaned as it was pushed open and Eric listened to each footfall on the stone stairs, the only light being what streamed from the doorway above. Her footsteps slowed significantly.

Eric felt a cynical smile tug at his lips, "Afraid of the dark?"

"Haven't been since I was a child," Sookie said, crossing her hands over her small chest. She hadn't quite made it to the bottom of the stairs, but Eric hadn't expected her to. He knew his dungeon was…well, disturbing for humans. To him, it was a place to think, which was being disrupted right now by the annoying, self-righteous blonde.

"You are a child," Eric replied, getting up off of the ground at a dull human speed and rubbing his forehead with one hand.

He could feel anger wash through Sookie and he delighted in the fact that it was so easy to rile her up. Getting a reaction out of Sookie, good or bad, had always been a fascinating distraction from his constant numbness.

"Bite me," she spit.

"How cliché," Eric murmured before approaching her slowly, coming into the light gradually. He bared his fangs, eying her neck, "Was that an invitation?"

"Oh shut up," Sookie pouted, stomping her foot, "You know what I meant, stupid."

Eric tucked his fangs away, tilting his head to the side, "Stop it. Adults don't pout so adorably."

"I don't even know why I'm down here," she mumbled, shifting her weight on her other hip, "You seem to be acting like the same ass you always are, but Pam wouldn't be worried for nothing, so why aren't you eating or sleeping?"

If Eric were an eye roller, he would indulge Sookie, but he wasn't, so he placed his hands in his black jean pockets and stared at her, "Pam will always worry over me. There's nothing I can do to prevent a progeny from worrying over their maker."

Sookie didn't look phased by his words: in fact, he feared she could see through them, which was a power Eric wondered about being from her fey blood.

"You've been a mess ever since putting Edgington in the ground," she said softly, her brow furrowed together as she tried to probe a brain she couldn't reach with her telepathy.

For once, Eric was thankful Sookie was incapable of reading vampire minds. It insured his privacy and protected his memories of his maker. He would not share them with anyone, especially not a human child who had somehow managed to wiggle her way into the supernatural realm through frustrating luck and a curious vampire queen.

And Bill Compton. Bill Compton was responsible for nearly all of Eric's recent transgressions in the vampire community, but most of it was settled. For now. He wasn't in the mood for picking fights that were so easy for him to win they were laughable.

Everything was so…trivial.

"You gave him a fate worse then death, for reasons I might never come to know, but obviously you're struggling with it."

"I'm not struggling with anything," Eric said softly before locking eyes with her and approaching her at unnatural speed, making her gasp as he glared down at her, "Nor shall I ever."

"That's right, I forgot how tough you are," Sookie said, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice as she stared back at Eric in her predictably defiant way, "but I've seen the human side of you, Eric Northman, whether you like it or not. Godric saw it too-"

Eric grabbed her by the throat, pressing slightly, just enough to warn her, make her heartbeat faster. His jaw was rigid, his eyes narrow, "You will not speak of what you do not know. You know nothing of Godric. Nothing. You forget your place, little girl. You may have grown complacent with your pathetic vampire fuck buddy, but do not forget who I am and pray you never come to know what I am truly capable of."

He released her, listening to her choke and rub her throat as Eric ascended the staircase, ignoring his blood link that told of Sookie's sudden wash of guilt and shame.

…..

"You want more?"

Eric didn't feel the need to respond to the woman currently residing in his bed. She was beautiful, her blood type rare, and practically naked: three things that usually made him sexually voracious, but not tonight.

"No," he husked. He was still fully clothed, one hand on the girl's bent knee and the other on her hip. He had barely sunk his fangs into his favorite artery near the groin.

He rolled to the side of the bed, now lying on his back as she lay there confused. She finally sat up, staring at him.

"You're not hungry? You're not going to fuck me?" she asked bluntly.

Eric sighed, "I'm bored. I'm done with you. Sorry, sweetheart."

"Ass hole," she huffed, getting out of the bed and dragging on her clothes. He couldn't care less what the human blood whore thought of him, but he had to give her credit for standing up to him and calling him names. Most humans weren't stupid enough.

Pam was in his bedroom doorway less than a minute later, hands on her hips, giving him the classic Pam glare that he loved so much, "Really, Eric, what am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know, Pam. That threesome in Chicago didn't end well," Eric said, hoping his little ice queen took the baiting words.

"She was perfectly good! Just your type!" She snarled, taking more steps into the bedroom. Apparently she was too upset to play verbal games.

"You worry too much."

"Then don't make me worry," Pam confided in a softer tone, "I know you love me more when I'm a stone cold bitch, Eric, but I'll have you hate me before I'll watch you wither away, dead to the world."

"I am dead to the world," he said, getting out of bed and heading for the door, stopping to plant a kiss on top of his child's head, "Really, Pam, stop it. I'm fine."

She huffed under her breath, avoiding bloody tears as he left her to the darkness of his home.

….

He hadn't planned on wandering the streets, but it's what he ended up doing for the remainder of the night. It was late: most clubs were closing up, neon signs winking out, but he was restless, and he would never admit that he wanted to avoid Pam, but it was true. He cared for his progeny on a deep level, but she really was beginning to grate on his nerves.

He wanted quiet and solitude, neither of which he could acquire at his club or in his own home.

So here he was, wandering the streets, lost in his own mind, if it was indeed lost.

He was sure it was. If he couldn't admit it to anyone else, he could at least admit it to himself. He had no doubt he was becoming unhinged, and all the pent up anger and sorrow over Godric's death was beginning to surface now that he had avenged his human family.

With his family avenged, he had no purpose. With Godric gone, he had no guidance. For the first time in his entire life, human or vampire, he felt utterly lost.

"Excuse me."

Eric turned to face the young masculine voice, betraying surprise in his eyes upon seeing the human. His brown hair was short and choppy, his big, liquid brown puppy dog eyes on Eric's.

"Sorry to bother you, but my phone died. Could I bother you to call me a cab?" he asked, his voice withholding the typical Louisiana accent. If Eric had to guess, he was probably a tourist from somewhere west. The young stranger's cheeks were tinged a shade of red that only embarrassment or alcohol could provide. Considering he smelled like cologne, sweat, and beer, Eric could assume the latter.

He wasn't Godric, but there was something about his face that reminded Eric of him, and he instantly felt a rush of heat.

He wasted no time. He leaned down slightly, drawing the young male in, glamouring him seamlessly, "What's your name?"

"Greg."

The irony felt like silver in his gut. Eric couldn't help but smirk at the answer, "Greg, how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

A voice in Eric's head told him no, that Godric would never approve of him taking advantage of a child, but the resemblance was so…

Eric couldn't help himself. He gave his phone to the child and instructed him to call home and fabricate a lie about spending the night at a friend's. It went swiftly and without a hitch, and not even thirty minutes later they were in a hotel room. Eric had the boy spread out beneath him, half naked and breathing heavily. Eric found himself wanting to devour him, erase him, but a small part of him refused to do so. How could he bring harm to someone who resembled his dead maker?

"Godric," he murmured, sinking his fangs into the child's left pectoral. Greg mewled beneath him, arching his back and panting. Eric licked carefully, not wanting to drink too deeply. He wanted this child to last.

"Who's Godric?" he asked, earning him a slap across the face.

Eric gripped the boy's chin hard, forcing him to look directly into his blue eyes, his pupils dilating, "You will not speak, you will enjoy what I'm about to do with you. You will be tired tomorrow, but it was just another late night out with friends."

"Yeah, we stayed out late," he said even though he panicked when Eric ripped his boxers away, "Wait what are you - I have a girlfriend-"

"Not tonight," Eric said, flipping the boy over onto his stomach and slamming his hard cock into the boy's virgin entrance.

Eric couldn't decide if the child's screams were terrible or delicious. He pumped in and out of the boy quickly, abandoning himself to his need. He continued his assault, wave after wave of powerful sensation consuming him as he brought himself nearer and nearer to release. The boy had passed out beneath him.

He didn't care. He was not human. The only thing that mattered was his carnal needs, his carnal desires. He could feel how much he had torn the boy's insides, blood and precum dripping from his ass as Eric continued his assault. He grunted, pulling himself free from the boy's tight heat and cumming on his back. He quickly cleaned the boy up with the bed sheet before biting his wrist and forcing the unconscious boy to drink from him.

"I should just kill you," Eric murmured, his fingers lightly brushing the hair out of the sleeping boy's face. He'd be healed in his sleep and the human would never know any different.

But Eric would. He always remembered. Every victim: willing or otherwise. Godric had taught him that: the gift of immortality came with a mind to match. The vampire mind remembered everything, completely eidetic. There was no escaping any action or choice of words when a vampire: it would be remembered forever in exquisite detail.

Eric ran his hand along the boy's jaw one last time before leaving the hotel, vowing to never seek the boy out again.

For both their sakes.

He had managed to make it back to his apartment before his vision blurred. He fought back bloody tears, hearing Godric's voice in his head, seeing his eyes, those disturbingly deep ancient eyes…

"Eric, you make me bleed, my child."

Eric slammed his fist into the wall, chunks of dry wall falling to his feet as Eric gripped his head, "No…"

"Eric."

"You're gone…" Eric acknowledged quietly, crumbling to his knees, staring up at his ceiling as blood leaked from his eyes. Shame, anger, and sorrow washed over him in waves. His throat constricted, his physical hunger intertwining with his emotional pain.

"Godric…" Eric sobbed, blood cascading down his chest.

"Eric?"

Eric didn't even bother to acknowledge Pam's worry, "Get out."

"Eric, please…"

"GET OUT!" Eric growled threateningly, his voice rising in terrifying anger.

In the next instant she fled, disappearing from sight too fast for a human to see.

…..

Eric did not know where Pam disappeared to for the next few days, nor did he care. He could feel their link, feel her sadness and confusion, but he didn't need her here with him right now. She was running the bar in his absence as he turned to his solitude, and he enjoyed it, day and night.

He was currently resting in his giant bathtub, soaking. Showers were convenient, but Eric had always enjoyed a good bath, even if he was practically bathing in his own blood due to the daylight bleeds. A bath at midday for a vampire was as near to suicide as he was going to get without meeting the sun. It was extremely painful and coupled with his numerous nights without feeding, he could not remember ever feeling this weak, this human.

Eric allowed his mind to drift, the few blood red candles around his massive bathroom casting an eerie light on the bloody tub. Eric stayed perfectly still as he felt the water ripple slightly in front of him, the ghost of a familiar hand slide along his abdomen.

The hand continued to travel upward, over his perfect chest, a dark wet head soon appearing from beneath the blood-stained water. Grey eyes as bright as the moon greeted Eric. Godric looked positively, absolutely real.

"Did I meet the true death?" Eric asked aloud, whether to himself or to the tangible ghost currently naked in his bath, he wasn't sure, "Or perhaps I'm being haunted?"

Godric smirked slightly, his hands gently running along either side of Eric's neck before caressing his slicked back, wet hair, "Neither, my love."

"Witchcraft?" Eric said in monotone, his shattering mind developing paranoia for the supernatural magic mongers. Covens were rare in Shreveport but not unheard of.

Godric leaned farther over Eric and kissed his forehead, making Eric take a deep breath in through his nose. It was a delicious illusion indeed, but the pain of knowing it was an illusion chipped at his already un-healable heart.

"No," Godric sighed, straddling Eric fully now, his cold, smooth forehead pressed against Eric's own, his eyes locked on his progeny, "It is you, only you, Eric, and your mind."

Eric closed his eyes in a smile, a smile that was all teeth, "A dream, then? I fell asleep before finishing my bath?"

"Perhaps," Godric said in a hushed tone that made Eric's cock twitch, "Does it really matter?"

"No," Eric replied almost instantly, one of his large hands disappearing under the bloody water to grasp at Godric's hardening length, "Nothing does. Not anymore."

Godric hissed as Eric's hand squeezed his cock tightly, making Godric shift his hips forward, grinding his ass against Eric's own strengthening erection.

"Eric," Godric said, making Eric's spine tingle. It was a tone he was familiar with, a tone that spoke of need and want. Eric loved it.

"Say it again," Eric said almost threateningly, nipping at Godric's full bottom lip, "Say it."

"Eric," Godric whispered, his hips beginning to gently thrust against Eric's pleasing hand, "Please, Eric. I need you."

Eric growled, attacking Godric's mouth with teeth and tongue, trying to overwhelm his dead lover. Frustration, lust, and need pulsed throughout his body. Eric's hands moved over Godric's chest, his breath catching at the familiarity of the touch, the softness of the marble skin. His greedy fingers soon raked against Godric's ass cheeks, raising him slightly.

Godric growled in warning, a deep hiss that made Eric even harder as Godric pushed against Eric's chest, pinning him against the edge of the large tub effortlessly with his superior age and strength.

"Do not tease me, little one," Godric murmured, his fangs bared for Eric to appreciate. Eric had always loved seeing his maker's fangs: it was undeniably erotic, making Eric hopeful of the exchanging of blood, which, in many ways, was more intimate and satisfying then sex.

It had been so long since Godric had referred to Eric by that endearment. Eric had never been little, even when he was a child, and he would never allow it to be uttered from anyone's lips besides his beloved maker. No one else would have ever dared, but Godric had never been intimidated by his tall, brash, and cocky Viking.

Eric pecked Godric on the lips in submission and apology, "Now you're teasing me."

Eric demonstrated this point by bending his legs and lifting his hips slightly, allowing his engorged and long cock to rub against Godric's ass. Godric shivered, which drove Eric wild, but he couldn't move, even if he wanted to. Godric had complete control, would always have complete control, even in death.

"Allow me to remedy that," Godric husked, suddenly slamming himself down on Eric's hard cock. Eric threw his head back and practically roared at the sensation, his spine feeling as if it were melting. If this was a dream, it was the most intense and realistic one he had ever had. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eric was still unwilling to rule out witchcraft.

Godric had cried out as well: vampires healed quickly, but not that quickly. Being taken dry in what was eternally a human virgin body was viewed as both a blessing and a curse in the lovers' eyes.

Only a moment to adjust.

Then Godric began to move.

Eric's hands clawed at Godric's hips, over his chest, brushing over his pert nipples, around his slender neck, those grey eyes dilated with lust and what was a thousand years of love, devotion, and trust.

Both vampires had always been proud about their superior sexual stamina, but it was all too much too fast, especially when Eric's fangs grazed Godric's tongue, causing it to swell with blood and pool in their mouths before the wound quickly healed itself. Eric's mind went immediately into a feeding frenzy as he continued to nip at his maker, his maker doing the same.

"More," Eric demanded, baring Godric's throat, "I need more."

Without warning, Eric sunk his fangs into his maker's throat, making Godric cry out and convulse, his inner muscles contracting against Eric. Eric had never taken Godric's blood without permission before, and for a moment Eric was even afraid that Godric would push him away.

But he didn't. In fact, it had triggered his maker's release, which seeing his maker and hearing him in such ecstasy was what sent Eric plummeting over the edge.

Drunk off of blood and both recovering from their intense orgasms, Eric laid his head back against the edge of the tub as Godric lay against his chest. Minutes later, Eric felt a small smile tug on his lips as he realized he was still deep inside his maker.

It reminded him of countless nights of lovemaking, of holding each other close even after completion, Godric wanting to stay connected for just a little bit longer. Of course Godric could take Eric at any time he wished. Eric had always encouraged it, even, knowing there was nothing he would never allow his maker to partake of. Pleasure was an important aspect of being a vampire, and Eric had always worried that Godric might find another lover who was willing to spread their legs for him.

But Godric never had, and when Eric had questioned him about it, Godric had simply said he had no desire for it, that he was perfectly happy and content with how things were, how they would be. In all their years together, Eric had never quite wrapped his mind around how compassionate Godric's true nature was. For Eric, Godric was the definition of perfection and happiness.

Godric finally lifted his head, sitting up straight, undeniably impaled, but his eyes intense as he ghosted his fingers over Eric's lips, cheeks, and eyelids.

"What is wrong?" Eric asked in Swedish, only one of many of their ancient tongues.

Godric was silent for a few moments before answering, "I'm terrified for you."

Eric stared at him seriously, enjoying the feel of his maker's fingers against the cool skin of his face, "Why?"

Godric's eyelids drooped as he traced over Eric's lips again before putting his hand on his cheek and leaning in to kiss him lovingly on the forehead, "I was a coward to meet the sun. I cannot bear to see you alone and in pain. You put yourself in senseless danger because of me."

Eric digested the words carefully before responding, "I begged you not to meet the sun. I wanted to stand by you, to die by your side, but in the end, you were cruel, and forbade me from following you…" Eric trailed off, feeling blood beginning to flow slowly from his eyes, his voice raising a few levels, "What did you think would happen? This second life is meaningless without you in it!"

"Shhh, my child," Godric soothed, planting small kisses over each of Eric's eyes before he licked the trail of bloody tears, "Yes, I was selfish. I didn't want you to die; I couldn't let you die. Knowing you would live, that you would continue to exist in this world, is what gave me the courage to meet the sun."

"And now you are gone," Eric said bitterly, "You might have managed to preserve my body, Godric, but I died that day on the roof."

Eric felt Godric stiffen, frozen by Eric's dark words.

He ran his hands over Eric's face and through his hair a final time, his grey eyes saddened, "This is why you terrify me."

…

Eric opened his eyes and jolted awake, sucking in water that tasted of his own blood as he began to breathe again. He had somehow managed to become completely submerged beneath the bath's surface.

He got out of the tub at supernatural speed, lying on the floor on his back as if a man that had just escaped from drowning. He filled his lungs with air through his nose, deep breaths that his body no longer needed but were still ingrained in him instinctually.

Wet, naked, alone.

Dream or nightmare? Witchcraft or insanity? Eric no longer knew nor cared.

"This is why you terrify me."

Eric had made up his mind. What was left of it, anyway.

"If you fear for me," Eric said aloud after lying on the floor for what felt like decades, "there is nothing else I need."

….

Bon Tempes, Louisiana.

It hadn't been hard to locate the wolf. He reeked of his kind, and tracing his steps in Bon Tempes was almost laughable.

There was only one reason why Alcide would be in Bon Tempes, and that would be to visit Sookie.

Eric idly wondered if they were fucking each other, but quickly dismissed it as he stopped on the stoop in front of Sookie's house. He searched the blood link, feeling nothing but contentment. No surge of passion, no lust, although he was sure he smelled it coming from the werewolf that was currently keeping her company. So far as he knew, Sookie was still refusing to even talk to Bill after what Eric had revealed that night after dealing with Edgington, after Bill so foolishly tried to bury Eric in cement.

Really, young vampires were irritating. No matter how much Bill claimed to love Sookie and vowed to protect her, he didn't have the age, experience, or resources that Eric did.

Which was probably why Sookie had felt guilty after screaming at Eric, claiming to never want to see his face again, and still showed up in Shreveport to address what Pam was calling depression only a matter of days later. But, as Eric was learning over time, Sookie was full of contradictions.

"What's wrong, Alcide?" Eric heard Sookie say from the living room. Eric smirked as Alcide growled low in his throat.

"You have a visitor," Alcide said almost darkly before getting up off of what sounded like the couch and approaching the front door.

"Ever heard of knocking? Or are you stalking me again?" Sookie said when she peaked her head around Alcide to stare at Eric who had still not moved from his spot on the front porch.

Eric offered her a grin, delighting in the pent up aggression he felt rolling off of his supernatural adversary, "Why would I knock on a door to a home that is not welcome to me? I never realized how narcissistic you are, Sookie. I'm not here to chat with you, but I'd like to speak to your supersized guard dog a moment."

Alcide snorted, "What do you want, Northman? My debts are settled; you swore on your maker."

"I did," Eric said with an acknowledging nod, "but this isn't about business. This is a…personal call."

Alcide lifted an eyebrow before looking at Sookie and back at Eric, "So what's it about?"

Eric sighed, "Just come outside. Miss Stackhouse will only be infuriated by my proposition and choose to unwisely intervene. Now that she no longer requires nor wants my protection, I make no promises over her personal wellbeing if she decides to piss me off."

"I hate you, Eric Northman!" Sookie declared, glaring at him from just inside the doorway, her arms on either side of the doorframe, "I hate your fuckin' guts!"

"Why don't you come outside and say that?" Eric challenged, liking the idea of stirring Sookie up and getting Alcide to intervene and come outside. He would be killing two birds with one stone, or as the saying went, "Come on, I double dog dare you."

Sookie surged forward, but Alcide grabbed her arm and pulled her back, "Sookie, he's just trying to rile you up. Calm down."

"But Alcide, he's just so –so - infuriating!" Sookie exclaimed, staring daggers at Eric. If he wasn't already dead, he'd think the look he was getting from Sookie now certainly would do the job, "I want you off my property!"

Eric ignored Sookie and looked at Alcide, "I promise it will be worth your time."

"I thought you said it wasn't business," Alcide grumbled, taking a step outside the doorway and closing it behind him despite Sookie's protests, "So what's this about, Northman?"

Eric shrugged, "I want you to fight me."

"What?"

"Werewolves certainly are dense creatures," Eric mumbled under his breath before patting Alcide on the head, "Who's a good boy?"

Alcide slapped his hand away but it only amused Eric.

"Come on, what's this really about? I can't fight you. Even if I wanted to, you know I'm not strong enough."

Eric rolled his eyes before sighing, "You may be inferior, but you should have pride for your own race."

In a movement too quick to see, Eric was suddenly behind Alcide, gripping him in a headlock, forcing his neck back as Eric bit his own wrist and held it to Alcide's mouth. Alcide struggled, trying to move his mouth away from the vampire's blood, but Eric wasn't having any more disobedience tonight.

At this point Sookie had thrown open the door, obviously aware to the sounds of struggle or alarm bells had gone off in Alcide's head, "Eric! Get off of him! Stop it!"

Sookie was outside now on the porch, beating her small fists against Eric's strong back. It made Eric chuckle before he finally released Alcide, pushing him forward and sending him sprawling out into the front yard before spinning on Sookie and holding her wrists.

He smiled at her, "Sorry, cupcake, but you'll only interfere."

"Eric, what's wrong with you?" she begged, tears threatening to spill over, "Alcide's clean! He's never had vampire blood before!"

"Exactly," Eric said, listening to a cursing, raving Alcide who had just gotten up out of the grass, his eyes shifting to the telltale sign of the wolf change, "he's the perfect catalyst for a fresh opponent. I gave him some of my blood to even the playing field."

"Are you crazy? You're weak; you haven't eaten in days! You're going to kill each other!" Sookie said, shoving against Eric and not budging him even a centimeter.

Eric looked unconcerned, which made Sookie terrified, "That's what makes it...so interesting."

"Motherfucker!" Alcide boomed, spitting repeatedly into the grass as he breathed heavily, "Goddamn it! Filthy dirty son-of-a-bitch!"

Sookie's tears trailed down her face as she started kicking at Eric, "I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!"

"Good," Eric said, bending low enough to meet her eye to eye, "because when I'm done playing with your dog, I'm going to eat you."

Sookie cried out before Eric knocked her unconscious, setting her body down on the old rocking chair on the porch.

Alcide instantly reacted, screaming in rage, "Northman!"

Eric turned to him, beckoning Alcide with a finger, "Come on, puppy."

...

To be continued.

My first attempt at a True Blood fanfiction. Any feedback is appreciated.

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