Hello all! Here is another story for your viewing pleasure. In the coming chapters, I would ask that you please remember the kind of personality Eric displays and how it can be misinterpreted throughout the next ten or eleven chapters. This is going to be a little bit of a rough ride, so hang on to your keyboards!

Closet Adventuralist

Also, Reviews=LOVE and will induce me to upload the already written chapters faster.

She wasn't certain Sookie still lived in that paint crusted house she remembered, but here she was, standing just in front of the porch, anyways, holding a suitcase in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Rebecca Greenwood was mulling over what to say to a friend she hadn't seen in five years, give or take a month or two. The town hadn't changed much, still God-awful hot, still smelling of sweet grass and loneliness. Rebecca wondered if Sookie had stayed the same, like the town, or if her friend had blossomed into that beautiful young woman she had imagined while away.

Cocking one hip, Rebecca glanced down the driveway, then skimmed the windows. It didn't look like anyone was home. Probably Sookie was at work, probably she should have checked there first. Probably she was stalling. Hell, she'd drive over to Merlotte's and have a beer with Sam before she went about imposing on Sookie's time.
With a resolute tensing of muscles that brought her spine straight up, Rebecca walked back to her car and flung her suitcase in the backseat. The drive to the only decent bar in Bon Temps was dry, the arid wind whipping through her open window and doing little to cool her flushed and sweating skin. She turned into the parking lot and switched off the engine. It looked much the same as when she'd left-barely hanging together.

Like Bon Temps, Sam didn't really do change. He stood against it like some jagged cliff against the beating of the ocean waves-eroding, but holding firm until he could stand no longer. Rebecca felt sure that he would forgive her, her sudden departure and silence. She had been young and in love, barely out of her teens. Brandon had been so handsome, so charming, and so wild that she couldn't say no. He was her only ticket out of this town, and Rebecca wasn't going to let an opportunity like Brandon Maddington pass her by. She hopped on the back of his Harley and hadn't looked back-until now.

Ambling out of the car, Rebecca wiped the sweat from her brow and rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. "Here goes nothin'," she said to herself.

Then, she planted a smile on her face and crossed the short distance to the entrance. Catching sight of Sam through the window as she opened the door, Rebecca knew she was right. He stood wiping down the bar, plaid shirt firmly buttoned 'round his torso-blue to match his eyes. He looked exactly the same, save a few grey hairs at his temples. Rebecca's smile widened at he looked at her, recognition blossoming across his face.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he said, walking around the side of the bar.

Rebecca opened her arms wide, "Guess who's back!"

Sam wrapper her in a tight embrace, pulling back to give her a once over, "Well, I'll be. You've grown up, Becky."

"Rebecca," she corrected mildly. Then, she smiled and said, "Looks like I'm not the only one, old man." She playfully picked at the hairs that had lost some of the dirty-blonde sheen.

Sam had the good sense to blush and swat her hands away. "Does Sookie know you're back?"

"No, I just got in. Thought I'd stop in for a brew."

Sam smiled widely, with real joy shining in his eyes. "You came to the right place. C'mon, first one's on the house." He returned to his station behind the bar and pulled a cold beer from the fridge, popping the cap off with practiced ease.

"So, what have you been doing all these years?"

Rebecca sipped her drink, contemplating just how much she should tell him. He would listen to her whole story, if she got to talking about it, but some burdens were too big to unload in the middle of a half empty bar.

"You know, this and that," she said with a vague wave of her hand. "I'm sure you know I got married."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, news like that does tend to travel."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. It traveled, alright, traveled right back to her with wild stories of drunken orgies and dens of sin.

"Then, I'm sure," she drawled, her tone dipping low, "that you know I'm also getting divorced."

Sam's eyes widened slightly, but he gave no other indication that new fazed him. "I always knew that Brandon boy was bad news," he said, taking out a rag to wipe down the bar. "He was too dangerous for you."

"Tell me about it," Rebecca replied as she took another sip.

He smirked, "So that's what you're back for?"

Rebecca nodded, "Yeah, just… filing papers."

For a moment there was a pregnant pause of thought as Sam processed the information. He glanced up at her, his hair falling into his eyes, "If you don't mind me asking, was the decision… amicable?"

Twisting the bottle in her hands, Rebecca considered her answer. "Do you mean, is he fighting me?

He nodded.

"Yes, he's fighting me, every step of the way. And I'm sure I'll be dealing with the aftermath for years to come."

Sam pursed his lips, "I can deal with him—if you'd like."

She laughed, that was classic Sam, protecting the damsel in distress—always playing the white knight.

"No, Sam," she replied, "I'm perfectly capable of dealing with him on my own." She reached over and patted his arm, "But I appreciate the offer."

He held up his hands in defeat, but gave her a meaningful look that said the offer would stay on the table. Rebecca leaned over the bar and continued to nurse her beer, watching Sam take and bus orders. The bar seemed oddly empty for the evening, and Sookie was nowhere in sight. Was business bad for Sam? Had he gotten into some kind of trouble? Oddly enough, it wouldn't have surprised Rebecca. Sam's hero complex was bound to get him into some kind of trouble, eventually.

She stayed until well past sunset, ordering a second beer when hers ran dry and reliving old memories with Sam in between orders. Here, with the smell of artery- clogging food wafting in the air and a cold beer nestled between her fingertips, Rebecca could almost believe her problems had dissipated for the evening—almost.

Brandon strolled through the door as he did any other establishment—like he owned the place. It was his confidence that had first attracted Rebecca to him, his complete assurance. Now, as she saw him in the mirror behind the bar, she recognized it as a kind of cockiness, an arrogance that made his features sharp and ugly. He stopped at the threshold, hands on his hips, one booted foot tapping against the floorboards. But this was not the man Rebecca had married—the Brandon she loved was cock-sure, yes, but never had she seen the feral expression cloud over his face. Never had she thought him capable of doing her any harm.

Scuttling around the far edge of the bar, Rebecca dropped to all-fours and crept towards the kitchen. She just had to get to the back entrance before Brandon sniffed her out. Then, she could drive like hell to Sookie's and hide out there until sunrise.

Sam pushed through the door just as she was reaching out to open it, nearly falling over her in the process.

"What the—," he grumbled, but Rebecca cut him off by placing a finger desperately to her lips. She jerked her head towards the entrance and watched as his eyes followed her motion and widened. Giving him an imploring look, Rebecca scuttled past his feet and into the kitchen where Lafayette was dancing around, cooking meet on the stove.

"Hey girl!" He called.

"Shh!" Rebecca hushed him, knowing that Brandon would hear her if she spoke. Lafayette gave her a quizzical look as she crawled to the back door. "I'll explain later," she mouthed before slipping out into the humid night air.

Creeping as quietly as she could manage, Rebecca ducked behind the bar and around Sam's trailer to the side lot where she'd parked her car. Pulling the keys out of her pocket, she palmed the now useless house and storage keys, slipping her car key between her first two fingers.

After unlocking her passenger's side door, she slid across the console and shoved the key into the ignition. Fearful that Brandon would hear and recognize the sound of her engine turning over, Rebecca eased the car into neutral and allowed it to roll to the far end of the lot and out into the street. Once she was safely into the street, she started the car and, watching in the rear-view mirror for signs that Brandon knew her intention, headed for Sookie's. She left the radio off, slowly and systematically increasing her speed until she was fairly flying down the narrow roads.

There was no telling when Brandon would catch on, so Rebecca ignored the speed limits, pushing sixty in a thirty five. Four half a second, the thought that she might crash zinged through Rebecca's head, but she quickly dismissed the fear that came along. An escape was an escape—even if it involved her death—though she certainly didn't have a death wish. Her wanting to live was the catalyst behind her messy divorce with her husband.

Sookie's house appeared from around a bend in the road, reflecting like a beacon in the pale moonlight. Rebecca gunned the engine, her heart pounding hard in her chest—out of relief or desperation, she didn't know. All that mattered was getting inside that house, alive, woundless.

The gravel flew out from behind her tires as she zoomed down the driveway. She slammed the brakes, opening the door before the car had even stopped. Pulling the key from the ignition, Rebecca threw herself out of the car just as a caustic hiss sounded from the far end of the road.

Letting out an involuntary shriek, Rebecca stomped up the stairs, flung open the screen door, and shoved into the house without invitation or preamble. So great was the force of her movements that her body fell to the floor just inside the door. She scrambled to the staircase and watched, wide-eyed as Brandon slammed into the protective wall surrounding the house.

Her breath was coming in strangled gasps, but she managed not to scramble any further away and the stare down a man that she once loved as he viciously clawed in search for her life.

"Oh, my Gawd," came a voice in an accent she had worked desperately to dissolve in her own voice.

Craning her neck to see around the corner, Rebecca gave one of her best friends a smile. "Sorry to drop in uninvited, but I had a little problem."

Sookie looked to the door and back, "I can see that."

Rebecca pulled herself to her feet, dusted off her jeans, and held open her arms. "What? No hug?"

She had expected Sookie to be completely unnerved by the prospect of having a vampire in full blood-lust slamming at her door, but the (she now realized) grown woman surprised the hell out of her by calmly walking to the door, slamming it, and embracing her. Rebecca chuckled as she squeezed her arms around her friend, freezing when she glanced over Sookie's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said as she pulled back. "I didn't realize that you had company."

Sookie smiled, "Guess I've just as much explaining to do as you." She took Rebecca's hand, "Rebecca, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Bill Compton, and Eric Northman, Bon Temps Sheriff."

The title ticked off several memories and association, and since Eric wasn't in uniform—and his skin was deathly pale-Rebecca assumed both were vampires. Trying to keep her heart from dropping into her stomach at the prospect of hopping out of the frying pan and into the fire, Rebecca took each of their hands in greeting.

Sookie looked on in approval, "So," she said, "What was that all about?"

Rebecca let out a long-suffering sigh, "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

Bill cleared his throat lightly and Eric crossed his arms, leveling a glare at Sookie. She returned his dark look, "You know what, she's been through a lot today. Your little squabble can wait." Her tone was firm, though her eyes were soft. She led Rebecca to the couch. "What happened?"

Rebecca hesitated, "I don't know how to start," she said, her voice breaking hard as her shoulders slumped.

Sookie rubbed Rebecca's arm soothingly, "Well, let's start with 'who was that?' and work our way back from there."

Rebecca smirked, at least Sookie's problem solving tactics hadn't changed—still storming into the midst of things and flying by the seat of her pants. "My husband, soon-to-be ex-husband."

Sookie's eyes went wide, "Brandon! He's been turned?" Rebecca nodded. "No way!"

"Yes, way," Rebecca countered, leaning heavily on the arm of the couch. "The long and short of it is that Brandon was bitten and changed about ten months ago. I tried to be calm, cool, and collected about it—I really, really tried, Sook—but he changed—in his personality, I mean." She felt a well of pain crack, tears forming in her eyes.

Sookie grabbed a tissue and handed it to Rebecca, who took it gratefully.

"Thanks," she sniffed. Conscious of the other occupants of the room, Rebecca chose her next words carefully. "It was difficult, but I thought we were working through it. I mean, he's still my husband, even if he's not exactly human any more. But, last week, he just…"

"Go on," Sookie urged.

Rebecca shook her head, "I think it would be better if I show you."

Sookie nodded, taking both Rebecca's hands, who steeled herself, allowing only the most important memories of her marriage fall forward. She felt Sookie's gasp as she showed her the beatings, the rape, the biting, her visit to the hospital after Brandon took too much. It was all there; every tear, every scar, every hurtful word, up until she broke down and packed up at sunrise to come to Sookie.

"You know he always had a temper," Rebecca said in way of explanation as Sookie caught her breath and wiped at the tears in her eyes. Bill was instantly at her side, Eric watching on with interest.

Sookie waved him off, "I'll be fine, Bill. I just need a moment." Nevertheless, Bill carefully held Sookie to his chest, rocking her a bit and whispering soothingly in her ear. It was scene Rebecca had one hoped to have again, once Brandon had control over his baser urges. She held her brimming tears in check, knowing it was useless and petty to cry over something that should be beautiful.

Eric stepped forward, "This Brandon's maker, he or she left Brandon to fend for himself?"

Rebecca shook her head, "No. Brandon was always very strong-willed. He wouldn't even tell me who it was, just said he didn't need his maker and that he'd take care of himself."

"And where was his Sheriff?"

Rebecca cocked an eyebrow, "I don't know, where were you?"

Sookie, seeing Eric's temper flare briefly, chimed in, "Rebecca lives about fifty miles north of here."

Eric, who had gone very still, seemed mollified, "If you'll excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to." He moved to the door in the blink of an eye, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll expect you, Sookie, at Fangtasia tomorrow night. Bring your friend."

What'dya think?