AN: As stated, this story is a collaboration between myself and the wonderfully talented Butterflybelle... The two of us are equally elated to share this story with you all :)

Enjoy! Happy Reading!

Chapter 1

SPOV

I step onto my front porch, my trembling hands smoothing over the black lace of my skirt as the setting sun catches my mournful gaze. It's almost time. I take a shaking breath, telling myself once more that I can do this, that I'm strong enough to see this through to the bitter end. Courage, don't fail me now.

I soon find myself following along a very familiar path, one winding and twisted as the events that inevitably led me to this very moment. Warped, metal gates soon come into view and I step through the timeworn archway with a heavy heart, wishing there were some other way, any other way this could end.

"Sookeh," a gravelly voice sounds, making my heart pinch as I turn my gaze to meet aggrieved, russet eyes. "You came," he states simply, as if I really had any choice in the matter.

"Of course, Bill," I answer back with a soft smile, seeing his gaze fall to the empty grave at his feet. My breath hitches, not for the first time finding myself wondering if I can really go through with this, but then this is Bill, the first man I ever loved, and this is what he wants, the only way he claims he can find peace.

"Are you ready?" he questions, holding his pale hand towards me to send my heart racing anxiously. An audible gulp escapes me as I reach out to take his hand in mine and I can only send him a light nod, knowing if I try to talk now I'll only manage to either succumb to tears once more, or end up begging him to stay yet again, a fruitless plea that will undoubtedly fall upon deaf ears.

Slowly, surely, he begins descending the rickety wooden steps of the ladder leading to his final resting place and I can only look on in mild horror, knowing there's absolutely nothing I can do to change his mind. He lowers himself into the open coffin and a broken sob escapes my lips, knowing my final image of him will assuredly be here, in this dirty, darkened grave.

"Bill," I whisper miserably, hot tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.

"Sweetheart, you're doing so well," he encourages softly and I can only sniffle in response, nodding my head as I brush away the start of my tears. "It's almost over now; we're so close," he adds, earning a shaky nod from me as I hold my open palm out before me, knowing just what it is I need to do.

A familiar, soft glow emanates just above my skin and as always happens, I find myself in mild wonderment, amazed by the fact that something so beautiful, so ethereal came from me, is a part of me. And with that thought in mind, I'm suddenly struggling once more, unsure of whether this is the right thing to do. Can I really throw this away, this part of me, this piece that has helped to shape me, to make me the woman I am today?

"Sookeh?" Bill questions from below, his features etched in confusion.

"I-, I'm sorry, Bill, I just can't," I whisper, shaking my head as I absorb the glowing orb once more, knowing that throwing my light away would surely surmount to losing a piece of my very soul.

"But-, but you must!" Bill claims, his voice laced with the beginnings of fear. My brow pinches, wondering what has caused his sudden change in demeanor, before I'm shaking my head at him.

"I'll still help you, if that's what you want," I assure him, figuring his fear is stemming from not wanting to spend his final moments on this earth alone.

"But, Sookeh, we talked about this," he reminds me, a deep frown forming upon his face. "It could be dangerous for you to keep your light."

"I know that, but, Bill, I can't just get rid of my light all together, I mean, it's a piece of me," I argue, shaking my head once more as I step closer, taking hold of the worn, wooden ladder. "Besides, my light's saved me more times than it's managed to hurt me," I expand, climbing down into the cool, damp hole with a light shiver, before coming face to face with Bill.

"Sookeh," Bill starts again, clear warning in his voice, but I only shake my head, knowing I won't be changing my mind.

"Bill, I've made up my mind, just as you've made up yours," I state firmly, letting him note the sincerity of my words. He opens his mouth, looking as if he intends to argue, but once I cross my arms, lifting a challenging brow at him, his mouth abruptly snaps shut once more.

"Fine, just-, just promise me you will be careful," he beseeches softly, reaching out to place a cool hand upon my arm. Images flash briefly from his now almost human mind; they're scattered, nonsensical really, including faces of whom I now understand to be his wife and children, along with images of fellow confederate soldiers, not so unsurprisingly Lorena and…Eric? Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that one.

"Bill?" I question curiously just as he swiftly pulls his hand away, his jaw ticking subtly.

"Just do as I say, Sookeh," he bites out rather briskly before seeming to recover his composer once more. "Please," he adds, his voice softer, yet insistent to earn a light nod from me, my own mind spinning, wondering just what's going on with him, but then, he's a man condemned, by his own hands perhaps, but condemned all the same.

"A-alright," I answer back somewhat shakily, watching as he crawls back into the warped, wooden coffin. "How-, I mean, did you have a second option in mind?" I question softly, my voice unsure, barely above a whisper as I note the shovel now held in Bill's steady hands. Oh.

"It should be over quickly," he assures me, cracking the handle with a loud snap that makes me jolt, half in surprise, half in fear. Tentatively, I step closer, quickly realizing the only way I'll be granted proper leverage is by crouching over Bill. God, this is suddenly so much more intimate than I imagined and I find my knees are wobbling as I lower myself into the waiting coffin.

"Oh, Bill," I choke out once he places the makeshift stake into my hands, his own cool palms fitting snuggly over my own.

"You could still use your light, if that would make this easier for you," he offers, his dark eyes shining with, well, something, but with exactly what, I couldn't be sure. Somehow his words only work to center me though, as I find myself shaking my head firmly.

"No, I can do this," I answer back, my determination setting firmly in place, after all, if he can go through with this, then so can I. Once more, that indistinguishable glint shines behind his eyes, but he only nods his acceptance, his grip upon my hands becoming firmer.

"Sookeh," he whispers softly, giving me just the slightest glimmer of hope. "I-, I'm sorry," he whispers, managing to confuse me, but just as I open my mouth to question him, he abruptly plunges the stake home to make me gasp in shock.

"Bill!" I cry out, watching his eyes widen just before crimson sludge is splattered everywhere, coating me and leaving me kneeling in all that remains of William Erasmus Compton. A shuddering gasp escapes me as I'm left wiping cherry red goop from my cheek, my gaze falling to the soup filled coffin, expecting to feel heartache, to be utterly and emotionally shattered, but there's nothing, not shock, not horror, not numbness, not even so much as sadness, just…nothingness.

"Finally," a familiar voice sounds out above me, leaving me jolting in surprise. My head spins just in time to catch sight of my faerie grandfather's frown.

"Niall!? What the hell are you doing here?" I demand, earning but a sigh as he bends down to offer me his hand.

"I came to make sure you didn't go through with making the worst decision of your life," he answers back with a raised brow to earn a scowl from me as he pulls free of the dingy, dirt hole.

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I question him, placing my hands upon my hips to earn the smallest of smirks from the fae prince.

"The vampire," he states, waving a pale hand casually towards the open grave. "He asked you to deplete yourself of your light, did he not?" he questions, though his tone tells me he clearly knows the answer to said question as I shrug my shoulders in response.

"Well, yeah, but I, well, I just couldn't go through with it," I admit, seeing an approving smile stretch over my grandfather's face.

"This is good news; very, very good news in fact," he answers back to leave me pinching my brow in confusion. "Come," he adds, offering me his forearm with a soft smile.

"But Bill," I answer back, glancing to the towering pile of dirt beside the still open grave. A snap of Niall's fingers and the ground is suddenly whole once more, looking utterly and completely undisturbed. My jaw falls open in shock just before Niall proceeds to link his arm into my own.

"There, easy enough, now, tell me, Granddaughter, how do you feel?" he questions, proceeding to lead the two of us towards the iron, cemetery gate.

"How do I feel!?" I cry out, halting our steps as I motion towards my blood soaked form. "How the fuck do you think I feel!? I just helped stake my fucking boyfriend!"

"Ah," he answers rather dismissively, waiving a hand before me to leave me suddenly pristine once more, not so much as a speck of blood to be left in sight. "Much better, no?"

"No!" I cry out, my hands clenching into fists. "That doesn't make anything better, not a goddamn thing! Bill's still dead and there's no bringing him back!"

"And I ask again, how does that make you feel?" he questions, his voice soft, gentle as I grit my jaw, feeling very much like punching him right in his serene face. I open my mouth to bite out a cutting remark before his pale hand is lifted just before my face. "Sookie, this is important. I need to know how you really and truly feel, not how you think you should, but how you actually feel, right now, in this very moment," his voice is still gentle, soft and I find myself slightly taken aback, letting his words sink in.

How do I feel? I recall the moment Bill's existence ended; how I expected to feel pain, sorrow, anguish, anything at all. But I didn't, did I? And now? I know I should be distraught, hell, I should be in pure agony right at this very moment, and yet…no, there's nothing, nothing at all.

"I-," I start softly, my head dropping in shame before my faerie grandfather. "I feel nothing," I whisper, feeling guilt that I can't so much as muster a single tear for the man I loved so dearly.

"Then it's just as I thought," Niall answers, his pale hand raising to raise my chin, leaving me looking into softened, cerulean eyes.

"But I should feel upset; I should feel something, anything, shouldn't I? What's wrong with me?" I question fearfully as tears finally, finally form in my eyes, though not from sadness, but fear that there's actually something really wrong with me.

"Nothing, my dear, nothing at all," Niall answers back gently, the smallest of smiles forming upon his face. "It's Bill; his hold upon you is finally broken. You're finally free of the influence of his blood," he claims to leave me shaking my head in disbelief.

"No, no that's not what this is," I whisper, unable to accept his words as truth. "Bill; he loved me and I him. What I felt for him was real, it had to be," I argue, earning a raised brow in turn.

"Then why do you not grieve, Granddaughter mine? Why is your heart not aching for what you've lost?" he questions softly as I'm left shaking my head.

"No, you're lying," I whisper, stepping away from him, my head still shaking as I just can't accept his explanation. "You never liked Bill and now you're trying to sully my memory of him," I accuse, knowing full well just how my grandfather truly felt about my recently departed beau.

"Sookie," he starts, a deep frown forming over his face as I take another step back, wanting to put just as much distance between him and myself as possible.

"Leave," I whisper, needing my space, needing time to come to terms with, well, everything.

"But, you must listen-," he starts before my hand is lifted once more, a deep scowl formed over my face.

"No, just go, now," I tell him once more, seeing clear hurt shining behind cerulean eyes before he's finally nodding his agreement.

"Fine. If this is what you truly wish," he answers, a veil of indifference falling over his face, even as his eyes so obviously betray him.

"It is," I spit out, earning a dejected sigh from my visibly hurting grandfather, but I just can't take any more of him right now. I can't take more of his lies, more of his deceptions. I simply can't.

"Just know that I am here for you, that I care about you," he states and I can't help the snort of derision from escaping me as I spin on my heel, done with this, done with him, done with everything. "I'm always here for you," I swear I hear him say just before a loud popping sound signifies his departure.

I keep walking, my steps never faltering as I make my way back to the old farmhouse, fully expecting my sorrow to finally engulf me once I'm forced to confront memories, poignant memories of my Bill, of our relationship, both good times, as well as bad, that the two of us have shared together in this place over the years.

I crack the front door open, taking a tentative step inside and my mind is suddenly flooded with memories, but imagine my surprise when they take, not the shape of a dark haired Civil War veteran, but of a blonde haired, cobalt eyed Viking instead…