Happily (N)ever After Contest Entry

Title: These Dreams

Characters: Eric and Sookie

Word count: 3,415

Pen name: evenflo78

Beta'd by: Zhivago3

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, and I stake no claim on them. I am, however, grateful that Charlaine Harris allows us to play with them. Even if what I come up with is as sick and depressing as this.

Rated M for minor language, violence and mild sensuality.

Summary: A tragic accident injures Eric, forcing him to learn how to walk again. Can Sookie help him to heal, or was it all over before it even began? All human.

SPOV

It was my fault, of course.

All of it, from the beginning.

Even the accident that had been the catalyst, was my fault.

We were riding down the road, heading home from the grocery store. I was driving. I had forced him to let me. Eric said something funny. I don't even remember what it was now. But I laughed and took my eyes away from the road. For just a second. It was only a second.

One.

It almost cost us our lives.

I missed the red light. Red. The oncoming car never saw us... nor I them.

Time slowed, creeping along as the black sedan crashed into us. Glass shattered. Metal bent and creaked as it was crushed askew. I screamed when our car started to roll. Eric's eyes, filled with fear, locked with mine.

We were together, connected by shock and horror.

Dread.

Seconds lasted for hours as we tumbled; eggs, milk, and bread floated about us in slow motion. As the car slowed, time resumed its normal pace. My body knew it slowed, but it looped in fast forward in my mind. My pulse took flight. Eric and I both lost consciousness before our car stilled.

Silence rang out in the darkness.

I came back to in the emergency room, my head pounding, just as Eric flat lined.

I found out later it had been the third time.

I cried out, struggling to sit up, only to fall back onto the bed when my ribs protested. Something snapped; I felt it. Broken and bleeding. Pain blinded me and surrounded me, making it impossible to do anything but sob in silence.

They'd been able to resuscitate Eric, but because of internal injuries and bleeding, they had to perform emergency surgery. I was a mess, in and out of sleep, panicking whenever I was awake. I would heal, but I didn't have the same confidence in Eric's condition. Eric's surgery had taken hours.

Hours.

I felt like I died a million deaths as the time, tick, tick, ticked in maddeningly slow tocks.

Torture.

The doctor came in, and I awaited his news while holding my breath and peering through swollen eyelids. Eric was stable, he'd said. They'd successfully reset the break in his neck, he'd informed me.

Broken neck? The doctor's hadn't mentioned anything about a broken neck.

Why hadn't they told me?

Later, when I knew Eric was going to be okay, when he was safe in my arms again, I would give them a piece of my mind for holding back that information.

They weren't sure that Eric would ever be able to walk again. Those words scared me. Frightened me to the core. The fact that Eric was alive and doing well had given me hope, of course. Hope, I could handle; fear, I could not. I loved him, and he loved me. We would make it work. I'd love him even if I had to carry him over my shoulder for the rest of my life. As long as he lived, I could too.

I was able to go home two days later with a cast on my leg and bandages on my head and ribs. I didn't. The house felt too empty – too barren, strange, foreign. It wasn't my home anymore because it was missing my husband. My life.

I stayed with Eric. As I would stay with him until death did part us.

The nightmares began shortly after the accident. I tried not to let them worry me. But they were relentless and never changing.

I hated them.

I'd wake up, alone. In the darkness. My bed was cold and stiff, uncomfortable.

Empty.

Where was Eric?

I would try and try to get up, to wake up completely, but something always seemed to be holding me down. Keeping me asleep. Paralyzing me.

Voices were muffled in the distance, and no matter how hard I strained, I could never make sense of the sounds. Blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada. I would scream for them to help me, free me. Let me go! But they never seemed to hear or acknowledge me.

I was just a shadow to them.

Dead.

But I would wake up in the morning, next to my beautiful husband. The sun would shine, and I would inhale a cleansing breath and forget the dreams that tormented my nights. I had my life, and Eric had his. I could handle the nightmares as long as I had my days to spend with him.

It was such a small price to pay for our happiness.

Eric grew stronger with every day, and we went home a few short months later. The doctor's confidence in Eric's ability to walk again had grown exponentially. With the proper amount of therapy, they had no doubt he would.

It took a while, it took years actually. Eventually Eric was able to control the tiny twitches in his toes and before we knew it, he was standing.

Standing.

His handsome face glowed in happiness the day he took his second first step at therapy. I waited for him to look at me, for him to wink and smile at me. I'd been so proud of him, clapping and cheering him on as he slid his foot across the floor and mimicked the movement with his other foot.

He didn't... look at me, that is.

I was hurt at first, but everything seemed normal as we made the drive home. He was smiling and chatting, so excited at his own success. I just knew I'd made a big deal out of nothing.

It was nothing. So minor. Nothing.

Eric's healing and progress had really impressed the doctor after his first steps. From then on, everything else just seemed to fall in place. Walking, then jogging, and finally running. Eric was ecstatic when he'd been able to climb the ladder and clean the gutters. They were in dire need of some attention.

We were making it. We were happy, I thought. We were alive. That alone was a miracle of the most beautiful sort.

Things were slowly going back to normal.

But then Eric would get distant, separating himself from me. I'd watch from the corner of the room as he stared into nothingness. His eyes were unfocused, unseeing. His expression was unreadable. I'd walk up and place my hand on his shoulder reminding him I was there – reminding him I loved him.

I always would.

Eric would smile and kiss my palm. Those tiny actions would confirm that everything was just fine. Eric was fine, we were fine. He'd tell me he loved me.

He always would.

I would smile and take his hand, guiding him to our bed where my nightmares reigned.

If I had known it would only worsen, perhaps I would have done something differently. Something... more. I would have died to have my Eric back. My Eric that had given me hell for months when we first met. I'd thought him an arrogant jerk and a womanizer. But he was persistent, and I gave in.

He was nothing like I'd imagined. He was kind and considerate, funny and charming. I loved him almost instantly. I knew for certain my heart was his when he held my hand as my Gran died. He wouldn't let me be alone.

"No one should ever be left alone in their grief," he said.

Eric had stayed the night. I cried. I was hideous and broken. The only remaining member of my family had passed on, and I was officially alone.

It was his comfort, his arms, that had convinced me I wasn't. Alone, that is.

Eric had said as long as he lived and breathed, I'd never have to be alone again. He'd been telling the truth. One night turned into a week, then a month. We were married on our second anniversary. It was magic. Eric had a way of looking at me that made me feel like I mattered; like I was the only person in the world his eyes could see – I know he was the only man for mine.

For me, forever.

The accident had changed him, though. And in turn, changed us.

I watched, helpless as he drew further and further away from me and into himself. The simple gestures that had once worked for us were no longer effective. I couldn't seem to reach him.

Nothing I did touched him anymore.

"Where are you, Eric?" I asked one night.

He smiled, his eyes empty and almost lifeless. They burned and made me ache. "I'm here. With you, Sookie. I always will be."

"What's wrong?" I pressed, feeling that we were on the edge of breaking. Ending.

"Nothing. Everything is fine. You'll see. You'll see, Sookie." He turned to look off into the night sky, my hand clasped in his.

His words touched me somewhere deep, and I felt wrought with pain. Emptiness. The unavoidable truth was, maybe I already had. Lost him, that is.

"Don't you love me anymore, Eric?" I cried. "Don't you?"

"Of course, I love you," he said softly, his tone reminding me of brighter days. "I will always love you, Sookie."

"Then why do I feel like I'm losing you? Why?" My voice cracked with emotion. Unable to finish, I fell to my knees, my head landing in his lap.

Eric stroked my hair, the comforting caress of his fingers warming me. "You'll never lose me, Sookie. I'm always here for you. Always."

We'd made love that night. It was slow and tender, reverent. It was perfect.

I'd always loved Eric's body. The manly, protective feel of him as his arms surrounded me and his lips touched and caressed mine. I always loved when he took me to places unseen in the bliss of his embrace. No one ever had, or ever would again, touched me in the way that Eric could. I would happily die a thousand deaths in his arms, in his kiss.

Our climax was simultaneous and euphoric. Tears prickled my eyes in happiness. This was right. Perfect. Best.

We would be fine.

Our love was still strong.

Even still, the nightmares continued. Why wouldn't they stop? Why did it always have to be the same? The same loneliness? Emptiness? Darkness? I could never escape them, or the insanity of them. I feared they were making me weak. I feared that because of them I would lose Eric.

My nightmares were going to crush my dreams, and I couldn't allow it.

A distance remained between us. I was at a loss. I didn't know how to reach him anymore. Eric existed in a completely different place than I did. Right in front of me, but just out of touch. I couldn't ever seem to make less of the space between us.

I loved him so deeply. So completely. I knew if I were to lose him, I would crumble. There was no me without him. I was made simply to love Eric. If I couldn't even do that anymore, what other purpose would I have?

That he seemed to have given up on us so wholly, made me furious. I wasn't letting him go without a fight. I would fight, even if he wasn't.

"Talk to me, Eric. Damn it! Talk to me!" I demanded, finally exhausted.

"What about, Sookie? What do you wish to talk about?" His voice had been so calm, so sweet. It almost made me lose my resolve.

"Don't talk to me like that. You know that something is wrong here. I can't stand it. Talk to me. Tell me how to fix it. Tell me how to fix us?" I begged, my tears spilling over.

"Nothing is to be fixed, Sookie. You will see. In time, you will see. When you're ready."

What the hell did that even mean?

"Why aren't you fighting for me? Why are you just giving up? Please, I love you, Eric. I love you with my whole heart. Fight for me. Fight for us," I whispered.

"I did, Sookie. I will always fight for you. It is why I am here now. I will fight even in death to stay with you. You will never be alone."

I shook my head at him, trying to swallow the lump in my throat as I dried my eyes.

"Words, Eric. Those are only words. I need to see you fighting. Damn it! Show me with your actions. Don't just give up. I wake up everyday afraid you've given up."

The nightmares were a constant. You'd think I'd be accustomed to them after so many years, but I wasn't. I would never get used to them. I felt our distance even in my dreams.

One morning I woke up... only I didn't. My nightmares that had haunted me so faithfully came to life before my eyes. I stared in confusion, rubbing my sleep-filled eyes. Waiting for the moment when something would startle me into waking. For real.

It never came.

The white walls surrounded me, enclosed me, trapped me. I was suffocating. Muffled voices and the shuffling of feet brought my attention to the only door in the room. The bed creaked, springs whining in protest as I hefted myself off of it.

There was no window, only a buzzing overhead light, florescent. I squinted, stumbling as I took one step, and then another.

I pinched myself and cried when it hurt. Fear set in like a lighting bolt. Quick and thorough, it shocked me to my bones. I screamed, blood curdling, running to the door and banging so hard my knuckles bled. I noticed, absently, that they were old wounds. I'd reopened them.

"Let me out of here! Help!" I shouted, crying, my throat raw. "Let me out!"

Hurried feet sounded outside, and I fell back just as the door to my prison swung open. I cursed as I stumbled onto my backside, the force of my fall sending a tinge of pain up my spine.

The man smiled carefully at me, holding up his hands as if to show he meant no harm. "You're safe, Sookie. You're safe."

"What do you mean? Where am I? Where is Eric? Why am I here?" I rattled off questions as quickly as I could, scrambling to stand on my own two feet.

Eric would be here soon. He would get me out of this crazy place. We could go home.

"I need you to calm down, Sookie. Can you do that for me?" His round eyes seemed earnest, so I tried.

It wouldn't work. My head felt so fuzzy. "Who are you?"

"I am Dr. Brigant. Niall Brigant. Do you remember me? Try to remember me, Sookie."

I closed my eyes, concentrating. The name struck a bell, his face familiar, but I couldn't find it. I couldn't find the memory of him. He didn't exist in my mind.

"I don't know. Where is Eric? Is he here? Can I leave now? I just want to go home," I cried, settling once again on the bed.

"Relax now Sookie. I'll explain everything," he said soothingly. His voice was so controlled, hypnotic. I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. "Do you remember anything?"

"I..." I paused, my thoughts hazy and indistinguishable. "I'm not sure," I said shakily, confused.

"You're in the hospital, Sookie. Do you remember the accident?"

"Of course I do! It was all my fault. Eric almost died. Oh God! Please let me see him. I need to see him," I cried.

"Eric did not survive the wreck, Sookie," the man breathed, his voice strong even in the quiet. "Eric is dead, Sookie. Remember?"

I was still dreaming, surely I was still asleep. It was only my damned nightmare...right?

"No!" I screamed, shaking my head and standing. I shrugged passed him and walked towards the door. "No, he's not dead. He's alive. Eric!" I called into the hall. "You'll see. Eric, come get me now! Take me home!"

"He cannot come anymore, Sookie. Eric is dead. His neck was broken in the accident. He died in the emergency room. He did not suffer."

"No!" I shouted, tangling my hands in my hair and yanking. "You're wrong. No, no, no. We fought last night. I yelled at him. I yelled at him," my voice shook and my body shivered. "It was just a fight. We'll be back to normal in no time." My head continued to shake.

Denial.

"Sookie," the doctor said, stepping forward and gripping my shoulders, forcing me to meet his sympathetic eyes. "I am sorry. But Eric is dead. He's not coming back. Remember. Remember for me, Sookie."

"No," I whispered, closing my eyes as my body trembled.

Flashes, images, memories came to my mind. Some of them real, some of them not. I couldn't tell the difference. Eric laughing, smiling, kissing me. A black coffin. Dirt. Tears, I'd cried buckets of them. The funeral.

A flat line. The constant shrill ringing of it made me flinch. My fingers twitched.

"You're wrong," I breathed, knowing I was lying to myself. "It was just a fight. He was just here with me. Just last night. Eric is alive. He's alive!"

"I'm so sorry, Sookie," the doctor said calmly. "Eric is dead."

I felt it then. The breaking, the shattering. My heart splintering into something unrecognizable. My bones lost their substance and I crumpled to the floor, sobs came through my parted lips. Wheezing, rattling, loud and obscene cries of pain. My entire body hurt from them. From the void left behind. My Eric. Gone. Dead. No more. How? I couldn't wrap my head around it. It wasn't possible.

"How long?" I croaked, my voice raw and scratchy. "How long have I been here? How long has he been dead?"

"Three years. You've been here for three years, Sookie. You were admitted just after his death."

"Why? Why doesn't it feel like it? I can still smell him on my hands." I buried my face in the palms of my hands, inhaling Eric deeply. My chest constricted. Hollow. "Why are you just now telling me?" I said, suddenly angry.

The doctor shook his head, unflinching as he met my angry stare. "You have been here three years, Sookie. Every day when you wake up, I have to bring you back to reality. Every day I have to remind you of Eric's death."

"Why?" I shouted, irate and insane. "Why even tell me?"

"I still have hope that one day you will awaken and remember. I still have hope that you will be able to move on."

I shook my head, scowling, my jaw clenching as I ground my teeth together. "Never. I will never move on," I snarled.

"It is not healthy to live in the darkness, Sookie," the doctor said seriously. "It isn't right."

"I don't care!" I screamed, shoving him away from me. "I'd rather die than live here like this. I am nothing." I stalked towards him, my arms swinging as I punched and scratched at him. "I hate you. I hate it here. Kill me. Kill me now!"

Fury. Insanity. It was all consuming, cleansing.

An alarm sounded in the distance, followed by dozens of quickly moving feet. I was oblivious, blind in my anger, in my pain. I cries and screamed as I released it all on the cowering doctor. Suffer.

A sudden, sharp pain pierced my neck and my limbs went heavy, my vision swirling.

I went to sleep, drugged, sedated.

Numb.

Nightmares and reality had been twisted in my mind. The only thing I knew, was that Eric was in my dreams. My nightmares. Alive. With me. Never leaving me lonely, just as he'd promised all those years ago. But I also knew that I'd awaken and start all over again.

My reality was a nightmare. Wicked. Evil.

Eric was dead.

Dead.

So was I. In hell, that is.

But in my dreams Eric lived, thrived, loved. So I did too, forever.

Until death did part us.

~ Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now? ~ John Lennon ~ It all exists, even if it's in your mind. ~

A/N: Reviews and feedback are always welcomed and very much appreciated.

Please visit the contest profile to read all of the other entries at www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net /u/ 2606362 / Happily_Never_After_Contest