Ch 6

The Dream…?

1 Week Later

Layla had been mulling over all the information she had learned at Fangtasia for the past week and was sure of one thing.

She should've found out who the vampires in Dallas were.

That way she could contact them to find out what they know and try to track down Sookie if possible. But this whole mission seemed slightly doomed now in Layla's opinion. She wouldn't stop looking for Sookie unless ordered to do so, but there are no leads to Sookie's whereabouts or any other clues to find her. It's like she literally disappeared off the face of the earth. And it's now been 59 days or so since any one saw her.

On a lighter note Layla had found some common ground between her and Tara. That ground being Sookies brother Jason Stackhouse, the horn dog himself. Now Layla would admit that Jason is very good looking but that does not make up for his behavior. He had a very angular face, with short messy dirty blonde hair, nice brown eyes, and a tan over his body of pure muscled rock. Still didn't make up for his behavior.

Upon meeting him he had complimented her, propositioned her, after she had declined him and asked him a question about his sister he went into a rant disguised as a sermon. She had flat out walked away from him and his preaching after a minute of not having her questioned answered. Now Jason thought of Layla as a person ok with vampires and would start a rant whenever possible. So when Tara and Layla started to tell Jason off simultaneously Sam was thankful it wasn't at each other and encouraged it.

Also Layla noticed that she had fallen into a pattern, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She no longer dreaded going to work anymore than a normal person does. She was also able to ignore Sam's obvious affection for her, and she could even find her way to and from work. She could handle the mean people that she had to wait on and was happy to talk to Arlene, Hoyt, and Terry when she could. Right now Bon Temps was her home and she liked it more than her actual home.

But there was always a down side to everything like her dream last night, which had her stumbling around Merlotte's today like a depressed zombie…

Layla knew she was dreaming. She knew she didn't typically wear 17th century peasant clothing around her cottage… and she doesn't have a cottage. Her vibrant red hair was masked by a ratty gray kerchief, and her long muddy brown over skirt trailed along behind her as she did her chores. The very off white sleeves of her shirt were tied back so as not to get in her way and her worn green bodice completed her peasant ensemble. She looked to be no older than she is now but her face seemed more mature and world weary. Occasionally dream Layla would look anxiously out the frosted window for something then when she didn't see what she was looking for she would turn away sadly and continue with her chores that were slowly turning into busy work. Layla was getting into the dream now, she could really feel the cold coming from the stone walls and the gentle warmth from the small fire in the corner of the tiny cottage. Suddenly real Layla was inside dream Layla, she saw what dream Layla saw and could feel what she felt too but couldn't control her, like Layla was on a ride and couldn't do anything till it was done.

Layla was flooded with joy and happiness as dream Layla spotted someone walking toward her cottage through the snow. She bounced to the door and flung it open, letting a strong gust of icy air and lots of snow come inside the warm little cottage along with a blonde haired man.

Layla stared dumbstruck at Eric Northman through the love filled eyes of dream Layla. She could feel her smitten smile and light blush upon her face. Eric was just as exquisite as the last time she'd seen him. But now his blonde hair was tied back in a low ponytail and he had on the traditional 17th century clothing of a male peasant.

Dream Layla reached up to dream Eric, standing on her tip toes, her hand hesitantly resting on his cheek, and kissed him lightly on the lips as he kissed her back.

Real Layla felt her heart break at this display of blatant love.

Dream Layla lowered herself back down to her feet with her hand still on dream Eric's face and smiled with such a contented happy smile Layla felt her tears starting to run down her face.

She was only vaguely aware of the feeling of separation happening and realized it as she gazed in Warren Peace's obsidian eyes. She glanced to the side and saw dream Layla and dream Eric still gazing adoringly at each other, Layla and Warren were in the exact same position. Layla fixed her eyes back on Warren and started to cry again. He gently wrapped his arms around her and held her like she was the most precious thing to him in the world as dream Eric did the same to dream Layla. Warren's rough hand came up to her chin and cupped the side of her face bringing it out of his chest, which she had nuzzled her head into. His pitch black eyes gazed into her jade green ones for a moment before he lovingly pressed his lips against hers.

She woke up violently, she was sobbing uncontrollably.

Layla walked into a wall just thinking about the dream, not on purpose for a change. She was almost distracted enough to miss her one table talking about Bill Compton. Almost.

"Hey anyone know how much that abandoned Compton house is?" A grungy looking hick asked his two friends in a low voice.

"Ew, man, why'd you wanna live in a house dat a vampire lived in?" The one wearing the blue shirt answered laughing at his friend.

"Yeah it might have dead bodies and shit in it!" The other guy remarked laughing but still thinking like it could be true.

"So? It's bigger than mah trailer an it's probably cheap." The grungy one defended himself.

"Yea? An what if dat vamp comes home? You'd be like 'is tv dinner!" The blue shirt guy was still smiling but it looked forced and his words were serious enough to convey he meant what he said.

"Naw, I'd own the house so he wouldn't be able to come in!!" The grungy one said with happiness because he thought he had won the argument due to his friend's stern faces.

"He owned it first…" The other guy said in a whisper, and it seemed to sober the grungy one up a little.

Layla turned to Terry who was cooking right next to her. She leaned up onto the little ledge of the window looking into the kitchen and called to him.

"Terry!" She tucked a piece of her red hair behind her ear and was oblivious to the fact she was exposing her chest to everyone in the kitchen.

"Yea Lily?" He was busy flipping burgers so he hadn't had time to ogle at Layla's modest cleavage like the other kitchen staff had.

"Where is Bill Compton's house?" She was now pulling up her shirt privy to the reason why the others were staring at her.

"Uh I think it's across the graveyard from the Stackhouse house…" He was flinching slightly at the mention of a graveyard so Layla changed the subject quickly by placing an order for some onion rings.

Layla looked at clock and it was only 12:47 am, she still had three hours before she could go and investigate the Compton house. Of course there was the off chance that Sam would let her off early. But would that be abusing power? Or his affection towards her? Nah! Layla walked over to the bar where Sam was drying glasses with a beaten looking dish cloth.

"Hey, Sam, could I go home early…" She didn't feel right asking for the rest of the night off, even though it was only three hours, without an excuse "I'm feeling kind of sick, and I think I need to rest."

"Yeah you looked a little out of it today, just ask Arlene to cover your tables. Feel better Lily." She nodded thankfully, and walked away to ask Arlene.

Layla left her apron in her cubby in Sam's officethen headed out to her car using the employee exit, saying goodbye to Terry and Tara on her way out.

She drove back to her house quickly, she couldn't explain why but she felt almost compelled to go and investigate Bill's house. When she got home and climbed out of her car she was met with a slight dilemma. A graveyard.

A chill ran down Layla spine and she shivered with it. She knew she would most likely be alright, after all zombies don't exist, right? 'But Vampire's do…' she pointed out mentally. 'But what would be the chances they'd be in Bon Temps?' She nodded on that thought and started to walk in the direction of the graveyard.

Once she got over her irrational fear of flesh eating zombies she could really appreciate the beauty of the graveyard bathed in the soft silvery moonlight. The weeping willows were glistening in the moonlight, and Layla called to them, enjoying the feeling of the wind in the leaves. The ground was soft and she padded silently on the path between the gray stone graves.

There was only one problem, she wasn't sure she was going the right way. The place was just so damn big, whichever way she looked the headstones would just stretch out in front of her. So she just followed the path hoping it was right, and if it wasn't she'd just turn around and head back.

Just when she was seriously contemplating turning around after awhile of walking she entered a clearing and at the end was a big house. It reminded Layla of the houses you saw in the places of the southern plantation. Which it probably was… But it looked to be in disrepair and rundown. As she looked over the front of the house she noticed one of the windows seemed lighter than the others. And that would mean that a light was on…

She sprinted forward toward the house, leaped up the steps and straight into the locked door. She fought with the knob for a moment before calling to a blade of grass. It grew over to her and she guided it into the lock, it fitted itself inside and she made it thick so when it turned it was now a cast of the key. She flung the door open finally and dashed inside discarding the piece of grass behind her. This house seemed to have the same layout as Sookie's so Layla ran up the stairs to the bathroom with reckless abandon. When she was at the landing in front of the door she could see the light flooding out and hear the slight murmuring of a strange language she couldn't understand. She turned the handle and pushed the door forward without thinking who would be behind it.

Her jaw dropped and she was pretty sure her face was bright red as she looked at a shirtless Eric Northman…

A/N: Is it cruel to end it there?