A promise fulfilled

[onceaviking]

Eric unlocks the door - and locks it behind them once they are inside.

The room looks much as it did the last time, Emcee was there. A framed picture of a moonlit ruin has been added to one of the walls and there is a stack of file folders on the desk as well as a couple of books.

The bed is made and the decanter on the small table seems to have been refilled.

Eric walks inside, the way you do when you own a place, leaving his flip flops by the door, and unzipping his track suit top.

He turns to look at Emcee, his gaze heavy and measuring.

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[i_am_your_host]

He turns his head at the sound of his voice. And then looks back at the picture, seeing it in a completely different perspective now.

"It's beautiful." In a haunting, poignant way.

Godric.

He slips his hands into his trouser pockets and ambles back over to the bed. Sitting down on its edge, he draws a knee up to his chest and wraps his arms around his leg.

"What happened when you went back through your door?" he asks quietly. Eric knows when he means. It seems like such a long time ago when he found him on the couch, so distraught.

[onceaviking]

For a long while it seems like he might not answer.

Then he says, "I closed the door behind me. And I felt him die. Inside of me. It was over quickly. And he wasn't afraid."

[i_am_your_host]

He watches him, face bare.

And it seems like a long while before he answers.

"I'm sorry, darling," he murmurs.

"I suppose it is some comfort to know that he wasn't afraid. He felt no fear and so you did not have to feel any either. The girl was with him, wasn't she?"

[onceaviking]

"She was," Eric says.
And then, so softly it is almost hard to hear, "She cried for him.her cheeks were wet when she came down from the roof. And he - "

He hasn't told anyone. He hasn't even allowed himself to think about it. But he felt it. He felt it.

"He was joyous. Right before the pain. There was nothing but -"

He'd felt like he couldn't breathe, as he stood there, in the hallway, the blood already trickling from his ears and nose. Like he needed to breathe and couldn't.
Joy and wonder and he had been so full of his own grief and pain and -

[i_am_your_host]

There is a whole expanse of bed separating them.

But the Emcee is moved enough to cross it, to sit by him almost leaning against his hip, and to lay a hand on his shoulder. (Eric's skin is still warm-but-not-warm to the touch.)

It is difficult for a human to completely understand, but he can clearly hear and see Eric's conflicting emotions.

"And you wonder why he would feel such joy in his release when at the same time you were in anguish."

[onceaviking]

He looks away.

"I miss him."

He sounds small. Sad.
Lonely.

[i_am_your_host]

His faint voice is a heartbreaking contrast to the huge hunk of shoulder that the Emcee is stroking right now.

He sighs deeply.

"I know you do, darling."

He doesn't look at Eric directly, if that helps him (nobody likes being stared at when they're vulnerable), his hand still on his shoulder.

[onceaviking]

"But I can't. Not at home."

Being vulnerable is dangerous. And it wouldn't be fair to Pam. She needs him to be strong. Not weak.

So he doesn't feel it. When he is at home.

It's different here.

[i_am_your_host]

He frowns...but nods. He understands this, too.

"Sometimes we have to hide what we feel. Even if it's so strong that it crushes us inside. For the sake of others. For the sake of ourselves. It's not the most ideal way of going about our lives, but...not all of us want to wear our hearts on our sleeves or think about what pains us the most."

[onceaviking]

"Sometimes, right before night falls, I dream that he is right there. Next to me. And then I wake up."

He is almost whispering now.

[i_am_your_host]

He turns his head and looks at his face.

And he's silent for a while, his hand unmoving on his shoulder, before he looks away again.

He thinks back not too long ago when Eric let him stay here, past dawn. With him. It was no wonder that he looked so sad in his sleep.

He sighs a little shakily. He hadn't planned on staying. He'd thought it was going to be very practical, only about dinner and sex and then he'd leave, but...

"Shall I stay tonight?"

The phrasing is deliberate. Not forcing Eric to indicate that he wants him to stay or needs him to stay.

[onceaviking]

Eric looks at him briefly and says, when he looks away again, "I don't mind. That you're here."
That's as close to saying anything that he can get.

As close as he can get to think anything about someone being here.

He's been feeling strangely unsettled ever since he tricked Sookie Stackhouse into drinking his blood. A blood bond is not a one way street. And while he has enjoyed feeling her during the night, dreaming perhaps, it is still an openness that he feels he ought not enjoy.
Just like finding it comforting laying next to someone.

[i_am_your_host]

He purses his lips and nods almost imperceptibly. And he leans against him just a little bit more as he shifts his position, getting comfortable.

What does one do with a big sad vampire?

"Tell me more about that picture. To be honest I never thought of you as one for hanging up framed photos. Do you have more like it at home?"

[onceaviking]

He is far too grateful of the distraction to actually acknowledge it in any other way than by latching on to it.

"I guess I'm not. But I do. I like landscapes. And pictures like that. Places I've been."
There's a brief pause.
"And ships. Longboats mostly. Sometimes an artists doesn't fuck it up completely, so ..."

He's on his back again. Mostly. Slightly turned, so he faces Emcee.
Still naked.

[i_am_your_host]

He smiles a little.

"Well, you would know if they did, wouldn't you. And I suppose you could singlehandedly correct every modern historian who claimed to be an expert on early Norse cultures."

Sitting cross-legged Indian style, he stays lightly pressed against Eric's hip.

[onceaviking]

"Sometimes... " he shakes his head.

Somehow, his hand ends up on Emcee's knee. Fiddling a little with the fabric.

Not really thinking about it.

"And arbitrarily assigning labels to shit and then telling me my opinion is invalid because historians agree pisses me off. "

Yes, Father Hermann. He is thinking about you.

[i_am_your_host]

His gaze flicks down to the large hand on his knee, then up the solidly-built arm, stopping briefly at the broad chest, then back to Eric's face.

"Who is saying that your opinion is invalid?"

[onceaviking]

"The priest. Not that his opinion matters to me, but he clearly believes that I am an illiterate idiot. He was shocked to see me read."

Though it may have been the subject matter rather than the reading itself, that had taken him by surprise.

"And then he of course believe that I am a reanimated corpse which means that I do not exist. As a person."

[i_am_your_host]

He pulls a face.

"A reanimated corpse? Well, that's unattractive."

It's said wryly, but really, could one be more distasteful.

"You know you don't need validation from a human, darling, and it's obvious that Father Harman is a very stubborn one at that. If he pisses you off so much, I would suggest limiting your contact before you- I don't know, remove a body part or something."

[onceaviking]

"I couldn't care less about Harmann," Eric says, which isn't objectively true at all. "Or his stupid opinions. But he's been hounding Pam. If he keeps that up I just might remove something."

He scowls.

"Like his heart."

[i_am_your_host]

Oh, that wacky Eric, ripping people's hearts out and whatnot.

"That's...certainly an option."

It's a scowl the Emcee would never want to be the recipient of if it leads to the forcible extrication of internal organs.

"Pam? Your progeny? She comes here now?"

[onceaviking]

"She does. She got celled on her very first visit."

He sounds - proud?

"You shouldn't approach her, though. Not on your own. She is not keen on humans. "

[i_am_your_host]

He raises an eyebrow. He's not going to argue if he considers that a worthy accomplishment.

Not on your own.

Eric sounds as if he's describing some kind of unpredictable predator- oh, right.

"Well, I usually can tell if someone is approachable or not, so I often err on the side of caution, in any case. How is she adjusting to a place like this, where some humans are overly keen on making new acquaintances?"

[onceaviking]

"She hates it," Eric says. "I've warned her that the women seem a little less keen on putting out here than the men, but Pam can be very persuadable so who knows. She might make some friends."

His smile clearly shows that friends is a loaded term. Another loaded term.

"And Pam is not hard to read if she finds your company not to her liking. But she'll behave."

He sounds awfully certain.

[i_am_your_host]

He leans an elbow on his knee and props his chin up on his hand.

"She sounds terrifying."

Being familiar with Eric, he means this in the best possible way.