I don't want to feel like a victim. It's just never been my style, really. When I think about the things I've done, seen, and handled in the past 2+ years with aplomb, I am equal parts proud and horrified. This fairy war has really shaken me up in a fundamental way.

Claudine's death didn't even really hit me until days after the attack, I think I was so busy trying to become whole physically again to support Amelia through Tray's funeral that I suppressed those feelings—but I have so very little family to cling to. I will likely never see my great grandfather again. Claudine has gone to the Summerland…wherever that is. Maybe my fairy blood will get me in some day, as I doubt I'm still on St. Peter's nice list.

Claude decided to remain in the human world, which didn't really surprise me. So I have him, and my brother seems to have grown up a lot in the past few months. I feel like I have a big brother for probably the first time in my life. I should be grateful for the wonderful family I do have, and all my friends. I still feel like an empty shell.

I still have Eric…though I'm not sure what that amounts to. We're married, in the vampire sense, but I wouldn't consider him a husband in any respect. He has been coming to see me every night that he's been able to oversee my healing process. His blood had me right as rain physically in a matter of days; yet when I look at myself, I still see the hideous injuries. No amount of vampire blood can heal a problem of the mind.

My ability to "fake it until I make it" has been tested a lot recently. I have to be strong for Amelia, who is struggling so much herself. She and Tray had really hit it off, and for the first time (according to her thoughts) she could really imagine settling down. When I consider the magnitude of that loss, I consider it a small task indeed to put on my best resilient smile and hold it together for her. She is my best friend.

What would it be like to feel that kind of pain? What if Eric hadn't made it through the battle? I think because he's so old and strong I never even considered the possibility of him not making it through any fight, but he could've met his final end as well. How would I feel if that consistent and comforting hum in the back of my mind, that constant presence allowing me to feel Eric with me always was suddenly silenced? I've always treasured rare moments of mental isolation as a result of my telepathic ability—but now Eric has been an actual, real part of me for so long I'm not sure I could bear to lose him.

And Bill…He'd been away recovering from the silver poisoning for about 3 weeks before he showed up at my house one Tuesday night. He knocked on the door and asked if we could go on a walk. We just talked about our healing processes, the extent of our injuries, and he asked about Tray's funeral. Mutual mourning, I suppose. Not even Rhodes compares to the trauma I experienced at the hands of the fairies.

I don't know anymore what I feel for Bill. I know that I have truly forgiven him in my heart for everything he put me through. He wasn't a horrible monster; he's just a creature that is not human, no matter how much I convince myself that he's essentially the same as me. He's not. He made mistakes, but I had too. I will always love Bill, and I might be in love with him…my feelings are such a mess currently that it's hard to tell. I hate that Eric has to go through this, too. He has to feel what I feel, and I know it must perturb him significantly to know I have feelings for Bill. I am his, after all. Hmph.

I haven't been working much. Now that I am "married" to Eric, he has taken a few liberties, surprise surprise. As it turns out, if someone goes down to the tax collector and pays 5 years of property taxes on your behalf, you can't just tell them to send the check back. I'm not really hurting for cash with that expense off the table, and I still had a significant amount of money in savings as a result of my various vampire jobs. Plus, a few days after the portal to Faery had closed officially, Mr. Cataliades came by to let me know my Great Grandfather had left me a "little" windfall. I guess when you're a fairy prince, six figures is a small amount. I wouldn't know much about that. Truth be told, I just can't stand to be around a lot of people right now. My mental state is too weakened to be in public and maintain any kind of shield. I do need to get out every now and again, so I've been working 3-4 shifts a week.

Not today. Today I've been mulling around the house. I organized my closet, polished Gran's silver, and took some fresh flowers to her grave. I also read a romance novel Bobby Burnham picked up from the library for me (which I'm sure he really enjoyed doing), and have watched two Lifetime movies. This was kind of a sorry state of affairs.

The third movie started and I must have nodded off. I blinked my eyes open to a very dark house, a silenced television, and Viking vampire lightly rubbing the back of my hand. There are worse ways to wake up.

"Dear One, how was your day? Peaceful, I hope," he asked gently. He'd been almost too restrained with me since the battle.

I chronicled the events of my day without interest. Normally I would think it funny how much my tone of voice has come to resemble Pam's.

He didn't seem to know what to say, so he just stared at me. He kissed my forehead, and carefully moved me on the couch so that he could sit next to me, drawing me close. He kissed the top of my head once more, and just held me in the quiet for a while. This had become pretty normal. There was so much uncertainty in him, and it was really bothering me. He'd never felt uncertain to me before, and for all I knew he wanted to finally cut me loose, but was afraid to do it when I was already so bad off.

"What would you like to do this evening, Lover?"

"Whatever you want to do is fine."

Ordinarily this would be a perfect set up for his signature leer and a dirty joke. He's gone soft.

"Have you eaten? Please allow me to prepare something for you."

I nodded and tried to smile genuinely, because he was taking amazing care of me. I just wanted the other shoe to drop already. I knew something was coming, I just had no clue what that something was.

He made me the best BLT I've ever had in my life, with some amazing tomato soup and a pickle spear. Granted all he really had to do was fry the bacon, but he certainly did that right. It was really crispy, just at that point where two seconds more would've meant a char. This was perfect.

I finished hurriedly as Eric told me stories about Fangtasia—just gossipy stuff. I think he liked talking about nonsense because it made him feel like he was providing a connection between me and the outside world, and it was meaningless.

"Eric, will you do something for me?"

"Lover, I will do anything for you."

I stared at him for a long moment. He wasn't going to want to do this, and I knew it. What a loaded question I had posed for him.

"Explain. Explain to me why you didn't come for me, make me understand."

"Sookie, I'm not sure if now is the time. When things improve for you—"

"Eric, I can handle it. I'm not made of glass."

"I just don't know, Lover. When the time is right…"

This really sent me over the edge. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Eric, nothing is ever going to be FINE again. Nothing! I am broken, and I'm not sure I will ever be entirely whole again—but that doesn't make me some kind of ceramic doll, stuck in her house with her vampire attendant, shut off from reality. Make me understand, Eric. Quit handling me with kid gloves! I can't stand it!"

He was hurt, and for once he let it show on his face. I couldn't muster up enough guilt to really feel bad. No, I meant it all.

"My darling, I apologize if my care hasn't been what you've required. I have tried to anticipate your needs and be sensitive—"

"You've been too sensitive. Are you even Eric? I can't tell anymore."

Now I was just being rude.

He breathed in and out slowly and unnecessarily, mulling over his thoughts as he struggled to assemble them for my benefit. I was growing impatient, but my discomfort at seeing him so upset was keeping my ire at bay—for the moment. I knew I was pressing a button by bringing up how uncharacteristic his behavior toward me really was. It was bad enough his minions regarded him differently and Pam teased him relentlessly. Now his constant attention was causing even me to question him.

"Lover, this really isn't how I planned this conversation."

I was about to boil over.

"Oh, it isn't? Have I caught you off guard? You didn't get the chance to plan this out, calculate the very moment of our lives when you bestow the truth upon me? Well, master manipulator, I'm sorry. Y'know, why don't you just go on back to Shreveport until the time is right," I spat. I couldn't control myself, even though I was beginning to want to.

He gazed out the front window for a long moment, sighed, and met my stare. His eyes were haunting, and the bond felt like a 2-ton weight on my back. I wasn't sure I could catch my breath underneath the pressure.

"I'm not upset with you, and I understand your anger with me," he began, almost in a whisper (which quite frankly, terrified me). "I prefer not to leave you now, but I will listen to your request and return home. Pamela will be here later this evening, and will stay in the house overnight if you will allow her. She will remain outside until you fall asleep so as not to bother you."

He was gone before I could change my stupid mind.

I warmed some black eyed peas and grabbed two cookies from the jar. We had a strange assortment of food in the house as a continued result of our mourning, and our inability to take very good care of ourselves these days, Amelia and I. I couldn't be forced to care what I ate; in fact it was generally the last thing on my mind. If not for Eric I would probably go days without thinking to eat.

Somehow I had become a hollow reflection of myself. The lights were on, but no one home. I wanted to reach out, to feel whole again, I just have no idea how to make that leap from here.

Although I had just been awakened from my nap a little while ago, I went straight to bed after eating. I've never said this before, but thank God for plasticware and paper plates. If I feel this shitty, so can Mother Earth. For all I knew, she was a real person, living in south Louisiana. She probably has it out for me, too. One of Eric's jilted lovers, maybe? That thought almost brought a smile to my lips.

As I drifted off to sleep I heard a familiar voice in my head, repeating the mysterious phrase that followed my thoughts every day since I came home, the vampire loves you…

The next day I awoke to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. The clock read 11:30. I can't believe how much I've been sleeping lately.

"Hello?"

"Sook, it's Sam."

"Oh, shit—am I late for work?"

"No, cher, I was hoping that I could take you to lunch—y'know, somewhere besides my bar. If you're up to it."

I thought about it for a second. It would take me a while to get up and at 'em, but Sam wouldn't be asking if I didn't need to get out of the house. I can't become a shut-in in this town and expect people won't start talking about it.

"Sure, Sam. I'll be ready in 45 minutes."

At least, I was pretty sure I could transform from zombie to human in that amount of time. Then again, I hadn't looked in the mirror today.

When I did, the results were not horrifying, per se, but I could certainly tell a difference. Poor Eric…I shouldn't have sent him away like I did. Well…can't worry about that now.

I showered and tried to pull a comb through the rat's nest atop my head, and attempted putting on makeup. I'd been inside so long my foundation was a hair too dark, and it made the circles under my eyes stand out. I put on my favorite long sleeve knit top (just plain dark gray with a scoop neck) and jeans. The jeans were getting kinda loose, which I couldn't complain about. I had transitioned to my winter jeans a couple months ago, and I could probably squeeze back into the 8s now.

I grabbed my purse and a light sweater and sat out on the porch waiting for Sam. It was nice to sit outside in the sun for a change. I don't think I've sat out here in quite some time.

Sam pulled up, and I was beginning to feel a huge amount of apprehension settling in at the idea of going beyond my property line. That led to me feeling incredibly weak and silly.

"Hey Sam!" I tried to sound strong, but my voice betrayed me.

He tried to cover the sadness on his face, but to no avail. "Hey, cher. I thought we'd go to that tearoom in Natchitoches I remember you liking so well. The one at the antique mall, is that okay?"

I nodded and smiled, retrieving my purse and walking down the old porch steps to greet him. I hugged him, and he seemed like he was trying to be careful with me. I've always been a sturdy girl, this was new to me.

We rode in relative quiet to Natchitoches, only talking about what was on the radio. The weather, and how Amelia has been holding up. It was nice, but I knew lunch would be a different story.

We went in to the tearoom and sat down. I order a Diet Dr. Pepper and Sam just got water. I undid my silverware and patted my napkin into my lap, gaze fixed on my placement.

"Cher, you know that I'm here for you, right?"

I smiled and laughed a little. "Of course I do, Sam. What's all this about?"

He looked at me as if to chide me with his eyes. It was working.

"Sook, I want to help. You don't have to work at all if you don't want to, your job is safe and this has nothing to do with that. Rest assured, please. In all the years I've known you, Sook, I've never seen you in such a bad way. What can I do to help? Poor Eric doesn't even know what to do—and believe me, 'Poor Eric' is not a phrase I thought I'd ever say in this life or any other."

My jaw dropped a little and I must have had the look all over my face, because Sam recognized it instantly.

"Yes, we've been talking."

Hmph. I felt ganged up on, but I also knew they were right, both of them. I can't keep carrying on this way, it's just selfish. But…I can't stop feeling the way I feel. I hate feeling everyone's sympathy—most of all Eric's. This just isn't him and I want to free him from the burden of looking after me.

"Sam, I'm sorry…it's been very selfish of me to stay so hung up on this—"

"Sookie Stackhouse, that is not it at all!"
"Let me finish, Sam. It is selfish. I should try to be stronger for all of y'all. You and Eric have been strong for me plenty of times. Then when the going gets real tough I just cave and lock myself up in the house. That's no way for me to be actin'."

Sam looked kind of shocked, but our food arrived, giving us a moment to break the tension. The rest of the meal passed quickly and conversation remained light. It was nice to be out for nothing but pleasure and enjoying a meal with a good friend.

I am now determined to beat this funk.

Once I got home, I went directly out back of the house to set sprinklers before putting my purse away inside. Next, I weeded the front flowerbeds, took a shower, trimmed my nails and bangs, changed the tablecloth and put a fresh wreath on the door. I was feeling much better at this moment than I had in quite some time. I had a new resolve to figure out my life. Sometimes all you need is a good wake-up call.

Don't get me wrong, I don't believe for one second that all of my troubles have been whisked away because I had lunch with Sam, but I now realize that my being down in the dumps affects people beyond just myself.

I never would have guessed that my first vampire guest would be Bill.