Author's Note: I don't know, I was bored and I just felt like putting this out there. A/U to Fresh Blood. I prefer reviews from people who don't like it.

"Hours," she thought decisively. It had to be hours. Disoriented as she was from the complete lack of sunlight she did not think it was possible for her to have been there more than what should be hours. She felt as though she could tell that the sun was up. While there was no way to confirm her suspicions, she felt it vaguely, just as a vampire knows when it is night. It was not a feeling she could articulate, but rather something that was simply was. Much in the same way she had convinced herself as a young child that Santa Claus must exist, despite the contrary proof from the minds of the adults around her. She incorrectly assumed daylight meant safety. A sort of zone where she was untouchable was the idea that was keeping her going. Nothing could harm her in the daylight. Well, not nothing, but vampires couldn't harm her at least. So, much like Santa existed because she wanted him to so badly, so did the sun.

"Hours." She said again, this time out loud. No one could hear her, but that was inconsequential. The sound of her own voice was reassuring in a way that another voice would not necessarily be at the moment. There was no guarantee that another voice would accompany someone who would mean her no harm considering the fact that she was chained up by her neck like a dog in the basement of a vampire club. Again, it wouldn't be so terrifying if she were not aware first hand of the kinds of things that happened in this very basement. Blood. Filth. Sex. This gave her a moment's pause. She had seen Eric down here with Yvetta. She had seen as much of him in her dreams, but in the flesh had been an entirely different experience altogether. The long lines of his body, the way he moved about in such an intentional manner. If conceit worked for anyone it definitely worked for Eric. Having had lived for almost a thousand years anyone would be well aware of the presence they had and the image they projected. People worshipped Eric on a daily basis and that was only what she had witnessed. God knows how many centuries of women had thrown themselves at the feet of Eric hoping for a moment of his attention.

She sighed. How long ago it all seemed. What were in actuality the events of weeks felt as though they had occurred to someone else. Everything seemed distant right now. Reality. Warmth. Comfort. Speaking of which, she was anything but. How unaware one is of the extreme discomfort of being chained up by one's neck and made to sit alone in a dark, damp basement. There was a conundrum of positions. It is impossible to lie down without killing oneself, though not necessarily practical to stand. For Sookie this left the options of sitting on her behind, which caused a sharp pain to go up her spine or kneeling. She had chosen kneeling as it caused the least overall pain, but it was by no means preferable. Uncounted hours of remaining in this position were wreaking havoc on her knees. Where once young, unblemished skin had been there were now two equal though not symmetrical round sores on either knee. Her joints were aching in a way she never knew possible and she was chilled to the point where she could not give feeling back to her legs. Hugging herself for warmth she became lost in her own mind examining the events that led her to the place she now found herself.

Suddenly she heard a loud slam of a door. Casually strolling down the stairs was an unrepentant Eric Northman. Despite herself she watched his tall body stretch itself down the stairs and offhand she considered the kiss they shared in his office so recently. She could still feel the way his cold arm encircled her body bringing her into his solid chest. The way his large hands grasped onto her neck as if all the centuries he spent on the earth had culminated in kissing her. It would seem that someone as old as he was should be nothing less than a masterful kisser. And she imagined that everyone woman who had had the pleasure of kissing Eric Northman (and it was indeed a pleasure) must have felt the same way. As if the very purpose of his existence was to hold them in his arms and slowly caress their lips with his. She retreated to the more pleasing thoughts of the minutes she spent entwined in his arms, but the sudden appear of his face in hers brought her jolting back to reality.

He looked blank. Of course he looked blank, she thought bitterly, he has no heart. She started to tell him that she hated him, when she realized it did not matter. What difference would it make to Eric Northman if one useless human hated him? Did she ever consider whether her burger had fuzzy feelings for her? He continued to look at her in a very unnerving way, without making any indication there was anything he wanted to say. Sookie felt as though her heart was in her stomach and it pounded against her body so hard that she felt it might burst through her skin. Just when it was all becoming too much for her he slowly reached out his hand to gently stroke her face. Using the lightest of touches he traced the back of his index finger along her jaw sending shivers of fear and pleasure down her spine. She wanted so badly in that moment to surrender to those feelings and allow him to comfort her. How easy it would just be to close her eyes and free fall into that space where everything could be made better by his touch. She had her pride though, and kept her eyes focused on the wall behind him giving no indication that she was aware anything was happening at all. A lot of good it would do, though, since she was certain he could hear her heart slamming against her ribcage.

"Sookie," he spoke huskily and she wasn't sure if he was just saying her name or actually addressing her. "Please…" he started to say, but he stopped abruptly when she whipped her eyes towards him.

"What?" She asked with complete indifference, but her eyes were burning with fury even if her voice would not betray her.

"I did not wish for it to go this way."

"Don't pretend you care about me," she mimicked back at him and rocked back on her heels to stand up. He moved with her, staying close even while she tried to create distance between them. Her emotions were overwhelming and his almost tender words combined with the proximity he was maintaining were confusing her further. Feeling a sudden, irrational crack in her façade she looked up into his eyes with fear. "Are you going to kill me?" It was almost a whisper, but the blood was throbbing so loud in her ears she wasn't even sure that she had said anything. Eric simply looked at her, his blank face revealing no indication of his intentions. The tension was becoming too much for Sookie and her panic began to spill over as unwanted tears fell from her eyes. "Just kill me, Eric. Just do it now. You could make it really fast and not painful, I know you could. Please just do it. I can't take it anymore. Kill me." The words came rushing from her mouth before she could even think of what she was saying. But as she spoke she realized the best thing she could ask for right now was death. No one could harm her once she was gone. Not Eric, not Russell, no more vampires or fairies or werewolves…she would have peace.

A flicker of something resembling pity crossed his face, "If only you knew how badly I do not want to harm you." She laughed sharply, nervously. It was a reaction that she couldn't stifle, because it was mostly born of fear but also because she knew this conversation was going no where. If he did not wish to harm her he certainly would not have chained her up in the basement of his club. One does not chain up a person unless they have every intention of harming them. Or pleasing them, but considering the circumstances Sookie was convinced that this had nothing to do with pleasure.

"That isn't going to stop you, is it?" All he had to do was save her. She would forgive him for locking her up if only he would rescue her before it was too late. She could walk away and never come back, she would forget that she even knew him, she would give herself to him for the rest of her life if he would just let her go. Looking into those dead eyes, though, she knew. Eric would not save her. He would sacrifice her.

Coming in closely he brushed his fingertips down her neck, slowly stroking her veins and feeling underneath it her frantic heartbeat. Before she had a chance to react, the chain was off from around her neck. Leaning into her ear she felt him inhale her scent as if savoring it for the last time before he roughly grabbed her arm. "No," he growled and began dragging her up the stairs with him.