Her Name

Chapter Five

I was dreaming. No, not dreaming; I was in the grip of a nightmare, a memory from long ago rising up from somewhere deep inside.

I was young, maybe ten years old. I had gone swimming with my sister, Sarah, and one of her friends from a neighboring farm. The day had gotten quite hot, and I had told my parents I would take the girls to the nearby lake and watch over them.

The sun was high in the sky, and I felt it's sting on my skin. We were taking turns diving into the water, seeing who could go the farthest out, the deepest. It was an innocent game, a child's game, and I wanted to impress the girls. When my turn was called, I swam much too far and ended up in the deep center of the lake. I had worked hard in the fields that morning with my father, and my young muscles were aching and tired. As I started to make the swim back to shore, my strength began to fail and my leg cramped up painfully.

In my nightmare, I was there and it was happening all over again. I could feel my panic, my desperation and fear as I began to drown. I flailed, struggling and kicking and gasping as I fought to keep my face above the water. But I couldn't. I went under once, twice and then again and again. I could hear my sister calling to me. She sounded so far away, her voice choked with fear. As I bobbed up and down in the water, I caught a glimpse of her friend running away in the direction of my house. Then I was pulled under again, and I felt warm water being sucked down my lungs and into my throat.

I coughed and sputtered and after what seemed like an eternity, I felt something grab hold of me, and I latched on to it with a crazed desperation. I would find out later that it was my little sister, who had bravely decided to try to save me. But I didn't recognize her, I couldn't even see her. I was no longer thinking, not even really feeling. My mind had switched off and all that was left was some primal instinct to survive. I knew only that I needed to live, and I clawed and kicked and finally managed to get my head above the water again. I took a choking breath, feeling life-giving air fill my lungs.

For just a fraction of a moment, I thought I heard a voice calling to me. Bill! Bill, honey, it's me! Then the moment was gone, taking all reason and conscious thought with it. I sucked at the air and found I was instantly stronger, the oxygen flowing through me welcome and desperately needed.

What I didn't know at the time, what horrified me later, was that I had been pushing little Sarah under the water during my desperate struggle. I had been using her as leverage to keep myself afloat, and in my unthinking and instinctive battle to live, I had nearly drowned her instead. My precious sister; younger than me, smaller than me, and the one I had vowed to protect. My God, I had nearly killed her.

Thankfully, my father - who had been alerted to the crises by the neighbor girl - reached us in time, and was able to tear me off of Sarah before she drowned. Later, I would see the bruise on my cheek and ear where my father had slapped me, very hard, in an attempt to stun me so I would release the vice grip I held on my little sister. I remembered the strike, so real I thought I was feeling it again now. There was a sharp sting, and even in the hold of the nightmare I felt the pain.

The pain.

Something shifted, and my nightmare changed drastically. I was no longer a human child drowning in a lake, I was a vampire in silver chains, held immobile while all manner of horrifying tortures were practiced on my body. Blades, sleep deprivation, pincers, pokers, starvation; all manner of brutality was being inflicted upon me. I could see myself writhing in pain, could feel the smell of my charred flesh, and then I could see my maker, taunting me with blood, and sex.

It all felt so real, too real, and some animalistic fire flared up inside me. I could remember clearly how my maker had driven me mad with lust, how she had inflamed me, only to laugh when she denied me. I recalled, too, the dark haired woman, Debbie, and how she had mocked my agony by offering herself to me. She had known full well the effects her taunts had on me, and she found amusement in knowing that I was utterly helpless to take her.

My brain conjured up another vision then, more a dream, really. And this time when my lust was fueled, there were no chains to bind me, no weakness to prevent me from taking what I needed, and I did. I could almost feel myself pressed against a soft body, could nearly smell the blood I had been denied. Miraculously, though I was surely still locked in a fantasy, I began to feel stronger, less tortured, more like myself than I had felt in many, many nights.

Something started to happen in my mind at that moment, some sliver of understanding seeped into my head and I began to break away from the nightmare world and return to reality.

It was as if my mind was a darkened place, void and full of shadows. And little by little, piece by piece, the lights began to blink on. First, I recognized the pleasurable sensations that reminded me of sex. Then I felt movement beneath me, pressure on my arms and chest, like someone was pushing against me. Finally, I began to comprehend that my tongue and throat had recently been quenched with fresh blood. And not just any blood, the taste on my lips was too sweet, too unique. It seemed to call to me, and I knew I was on the verge of awareness. There was something so familiar here, something I knew I should recognize, but it was just out of reach.

Slowly, painfully slow, the final, murky corners of my mind were flooded with an explosion of light. My mind became my own again, awareness returned, and I understood that I had been in the grasp of the monster- that ugly and primitive creature that rose up in times of great hunger or rage. It took me a moment to recognize the monster, for it had been decades since it had forced it's presence on me. But once I knew what it was, I was able to reign it in, control it and cast it back to the black pit from whence it came.

In the space of a heartbeat, all of the dreadful events of the past nights came back to me. I understood I was not dreaming, I was near something soft and surrounded by warmth. The taste and smell of blood was very real, and with shock born of disbelief, I finally recognized the unique flavor all too well.

"Sookie?" I asked hesitantly, quietly. It couldn't be her, but yet I knew it was her. I felt elation rise up inside me, and I replayed the events in my head, the scenes I had believed were merely fantasies.

"It is you," I breathed in wonderment. "You were really there, in that room...."

I felt her body pressed to mine, felt myself inside her warmth. It was so familiar, but also so different. Her arms weren't holding me, her lips weren't reaching for mine. Her breathing was ragged, but not from passion, and her heartbeat- the sound I treasured above all others- was strangely weak.

This wasn't right. What was I missing? What happened here? Why was I in this dark, confined place? I struggled to concentrate, to find the answers I sought. Sookie was here, now. She had come for me, she had saved me and killed my maker. But why? How? There were so many questions here.

My love spoke to me then, said my name, and her voice was raspy and weak like I'd never heard. But it was her voice.

"It is you," I said again, but I was suddenly concerned. She wasn't moving, was barely responding and I began to panic. Had she been harmed? "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered, and she almost sobbed the word.

With a terrible sense of foreboding, I began to fully comprehend the situation. It didn't matter how or why it had happened, the only thing that mattered was that my love had found me, tortured and starving....

Starving!

And then I knew. I hadn't been drowning and gasping for air, I had been starving and grasping for blood. And I knew my instincts well, knew the power they held over me.

"Did I," I asked, and horror laced my words. "Have I....have I taken more blood than I should?"

She didn't respond right away, and in those precious seconds I felt a fear and dread greater than any I had ever experienced, either in my human or vampire life. My worst fears, the very words I had spoken to her so long ago, had come to pass. I had turned on her, I realized. I had turned on her that loved and trusted me. I knew my hunger had been at a fever pitch, and I knew very well the extent of my strength and the damage I could inflict when provoked. If I had indeed taken too much from her....

I vowed at that moment to meet the sun.

I waited, but she didn't answer. I concentrated on her heartbeat and her breathing, and was relieved to find that it was staying at an even tempo. This was a good sign, wasn't it? If I had drained her to the point of the death, she would be slipping away by now, wouldn't she? I considered a moment, contemplated what I would do if she began to fade. Would I let her go? Could I?

With resolution, I pushed the thought away. My love was going to live, I would see to that. I wondered if the simple strength of my belief would make it so.

I adjusted slightly, trying to take my weight off of her as much as I could, and I felt a telltale pleasure. I realized I was inside her, a fact I had completely dismissed in my amazement and anxiety.

"I seem to be having sex with you in a closet," I said, and the words sounded off, even to my ears. Was this a closet? Oh my God, was this even sex? I felt myself tense as the true magnitude of the situation dawned on me. I cringed, tried to find the words to ask what I needed to ask.

"Did you, ah, volunteer?"

I dreaded the answer, and my fears were realized when I felt her shake her head.

"Oh, no," I whispered, ashamed and beyond horrified. "Oh, no."

I immediately went about the business of righting her and myself. As I did, I fought back rage. What had I done? I recalled what she had told me about her childhood violations, and my fury at myself and the monster increased a hundred fold.

In the midst of my violent thoughts, I felt my love shudder, and gasp for breath. I had to get us out of this place, this closet, or wherever we were. I had to make this right, and the first step was going to be to get her to safety, to a place where I could view her injuries and treat them. I used my hands to inspect the little area. I felt rough carpeting, and metal, and there was a smell of gasoline.

"Car trunk," I murmured, and I couldn't begin to imagine what madness had convinced my Sookie to lock herself in such a place with me. What was she thinking, I wondered? And for just a moment I was angry at her, taken aback at her recklessness. She had to live, didn't she know that? Why had she risked herself for me?

"I need air," she said, and even to my ears it was barely audible.

"Why didn't you say so?" I asked, and I immediately cringed at my words. I was letting my anxiousness over the predicament get the best of me. I couldn't allow that.

I punched a hole through the trunk, and I felt a rush of cool air. Sookie shivered, and for a moment I wished I had a normal, human body temperature, so I could help keep her warm.

I calmed myself, forced myself to concentrate on what needed to be done. I knew she was weak, and I was going to help her, but before I could do that, I had to understand what was happening. Were we still at the compound in Mississippi? Had we been captured again? Were we hiding? I knew I was going to sound cold, but time was of the essence now. I could feel her heartbeat start to falter.

"Where are we? I asked her, and she explained as best she could, something about a person named Alcide, and a parking garage. She told me to drink the bottled blood, and I felt around, trying to find it. And she told me Eric was coming.

Why my Sheriff was here, why he was with Sookie, was another in a long list of unanswered questions. Had he brought her here to find me? Had the Queen contacted him, perhaps? I had no idea what his presence meant, no clue as to what his motives might be - and Eric had layers upon layers of motives. But right now I didn't care what they might be. Twisty as he was, Eric was still my Sheriff, and as such, he was under certain obligations, and one of those was to assist the vampires in his area if the need arose. And that obligation also extended to Sookie, since she was mine by rights.

And at this moment, she and I were most certainly in need.

I popped open a bottle of True Blood and drank it down. I was desperate to heal quickly and regain some strength. I would rip this trunk from it's hinges if I had to, to get her to safety. I heard her breath grow even more shallow.

"Sookie," I said, trying and failing not to sound panicked. "Are you all right?"

She didn't answer, and just as I was about to attempt to kick the trunk open, a heard the sound of metal being torn, smelled a familiar scent very close by.

The trunk lid disappeared, and I looked up at Eric. His normally arrogant expression was replaced by one of surprise and confusion.

"What are you two doing in there?" he asked.

I started to answer, but then I felt Sookie go completely limp against my arm. I looked down at her face, and her eyes fluttered shut. I was out of that trunk in a heartbeat, and I gathered her up in the blanket she had used to shield me from the sunlight. I hauled her into my arms, and her head lolled against my chest.

"We need to get her help," I said, but Eric had already sized up the situation and was moving toward a set of stairs. There was an elevator, but we could move faster on our own.

"What happened?" Eric asked as we bounded up the steps, stopping at the fifth floor.

"Long story," I said abruptly, and the Sheriff looked at me with disapproving eyes.

"Why was she in the trunk with you?" he clarified, and I shook my head. Apparently that wasn't part of their rescue plan, and I had no idea how or why she had come to be trapped inside with me.

Eric pounded on a door, and a dark haired man - a Were - answered. He looked at Eric, then to me, then to Sookie in my arms and his eyes went dark. He stepped back to allow us entry, and then escorted us quickly to a small bedroom and flipped on the lights. I could smell Sookie's scent lingering in the room, and I wondered at her involvement with this Were.

But that was a concern for another time. Eric disappeared with the Were, and I lay Sookie on the bed gently. I stepped back a bit, and for the first time I was able to get a look at the damage I had done to my love.

Her skin was pale, so pale. Her lips were dry, and her breathing was so shallow the rise and fall of her chest was barely perceptible. Her hair was tangled and matted with blood in some places. But the most horrific of all was the jagged wounds on her neck, still open and oozing blood. I felt a cold chill strike deep inside me as I looked at the bite marks the monster, the vampire that I was, had inflicted.

I sat down on the bed beside her, and took hold of her hand. She was cold now, and her hand lay limp in mine. I was tempted to tear open my own wrist and feed her, but I hesitated. I had nearly drained her, and giving her my blood now could be very dangerous. I knew she had no desire to become vampire, and I would not risk that.

Just then Eric returned, with the Were right on his heels. They carried bottles of True Blood, and a pitcher and a glass.

"Give it to me," I said immediately, and Eric handed me one of the bottles. I positioned myself against the headboard of the bed, and hauled Sookie's unconscious body up so she was leaning against my chest. I tipped her head back, placed the bottle to her lips and helped her drink. It was slow progress, but it was working.

While I fed her, Eric and I talked. He explained a little about the circumstances that had brought he and Sookie to Mississippi, and I told him a little - very little - about my own experiences at the compound.

After a time, we both fell silent, and I focused on Sookie. She was moving a bit on her own, and I began to have hope that she would fully recover. She finished off one bottle, and I sat it down on the little table by the bed. I stroked her cheek with my hand, and pushed her hair back from her face. My thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. I watched Sookie's silent face, both hoping for and fearing her waking.

I recalled the nightmare I had earlier, the memory from my childhood, when I nearly killed my own sister. That night, my family gathered in the main room of our house, as we always did. My father read aloud from the Bible while my brother and I listened - or pretended to listen, as boys will do. My mother sat in her rocking chair in front of the fireplace, and Sarah sat cross legged in front of her. My mother brushed Sarah's long hair, like she did every night.

I watched my little sister sitting there in her long nightgown, looking so small. My father had explained what happened, how people could sometimes lose all control over themselves when they are in great danger. I knew I could have killed my sister, and the remorse and shame I felt as I looked at her was almost more than I could stand. I wanted to thank her for swimming out to save me, I wanted to hug her and tell her I was sorry for hurting her. But I was young, and my child's mind couldn't find the words.

Instead, I got up from where I was sitting and walked over to my mother. I held out my hand without saying a word. Sarah glanced up at me with big, trusting eyes, and my mother exchanged a look with my father before smiling at me gently and standing up.

My mother handed me the hairbrush, and I took her place in the rocking chair. I started to brush Sarah's hair, awkwardly at first, then the motions became smooth and natural. Sarah and I never spoke a word about the incident at the lake, but I was the one to brush her hair from that night on.

I smiled a little at the memory, but then Sookie stirred and it brought me back to the present. Eric handed me a glass of blood, and I held it while Sookie sipped at it.

There were so many things I wanted to tell her, so many things I needed to explain. I didn't even know where to begin, and the task seemed daunting. I would make amends for my unfaithfulness, that went without saying. I would even find a way around the deception and the lies that bound me to my world and had served to distance me from the life I wanted. I could do this, I knew.

Truly, we were not so different; vampires and humans. We were both bound by the laws of our nature, as well as by the laws of our authority. We held within us the capacity for great evil, but also great love. Our similarities were far and away more important than our differences.

All I needed was the chance to prove myself worthy.

And she would surely give me that chance. She would look at my failings, and my resolute conviction to make amends, and she would be able to forgive. She would be able to see me as I truly was, as the man that loved her and cherished her above all others.

Wouldn't she?

Fine'