Author’s Note: An End Becomes a Beginning picks up immediately after Bill meets the true death as depicted in Season 7, Episode 10 of True Blood. Sookie is devastated not only at the loss of Bill, but at her role in bringing him the true death. She is guilt-ridden, angry, and has resigned herself to living her life alone. This story takes her from the point of Bill’s death until Eric enters her life again. To say that Eric and Sookie have a few issues to work out is an understatement. Be patient as it will take until Chapter 3 before we actually hear from Eric. I expect this to run probably 3-4 chapters. Thanks for reading.
~Chapter 1: This is the End~
The Spanish moss hanging like shrouds from the branches of the live oaks seemed to wave a silent farewell in the soft breeze blowing through the cemetery. The moon watched silently as Sookie’s head dropped back with a sharp, strangled cry of anguish and Bill’s strangely warm blood dripped down her cheeks and neck to mingle with the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. Her sobs tore through the fabric of the quiet night, stilling the deer that grazed on the edge of the graveyard. Only the gravestones bore witness to her fisted hands furiously pounding her thighs as she crouched in the gore filling the coffin. Her rigid posture communicated unremitting grief fueled by guilt and regret.
Slowly the sounds of the night penetrated her suffering and her tormented cries began to ease. Shock was slowly giving way to numbness which would itself, give way to emptiness. So many had been lost; people who, for good or for ill, had been part of the everyday fabric of her life: Alcide, Tara, Sam, Terry, a host of others and now, finally…Bill. She’d thought nothing would hurt her as badly as Gran’s death, but the look on Bill’s face and his murmured ‘Thank you’ as the stake penetrated his chest would haunt her the rest of her days. Even though he’d wanted it, begged for it, had felt wrong. So very, very wrong.
Gone was the opportunity to enjoy the easy friendship that had started to develop before she had infected him with Hep V. From the moment she had received the results of her blood test she had held hope that something…someone…would find a way to help him. His refusal to drink from Sarah Newlin was incomprehensible to her and she had been furious. Even with his patient, resigned explanations she had refused to believe that meeting the true death had been the only choice, let alone the best choice.
As these thoughts whirled in her head, her grief began to be tinged with anger. Her breathing quickened as the pulsing anger grew and welled up inside, choking her and making her frantic to get out of the grave. She stood up quickly, stepped out of the coffin and slammed the lid down. Frantically, she whirled around to seek handholds that could get her out of this yawning maw of darkness. Her face and body were sticky with his blood and she needed to get away from this before she lost her mind all together.
Shock and misery made her arms heavy and her legs clumsy as she grasped at roots to hoist herself out of Bill’s grave. Finally up on the edge, she looked back at the coffin containing the puddle of blood and gore that were the remains of the first man she had ever loved, the same man to whom she had given her virginity and the man for whom she had risked her life to save from his maker. Fueled by an overwhelming sense of the waste and stupidity of unnecessary loss, her memories tripped over one another in a frantically whirling kaleidoscope of remembered joy and more recent anger, regret, sorrow, and uncertainty.
Her chest tightened with the barely contained need to scream in anguished frustration and desolation. Bill’s pedantic explanations of her light being drawn to his darkness, how she would never be free as long as he was around, blah, blah, blah. It was all bullshit cowardice! How dare he take the easy way out? How dare he beg her to end him? How could he leave Jessica? How could he leave his beloved home? And finally, if he loved her as he’d claimed, how could he leave…her? She felt as if her head would explode from the towering rage building in her head and her heart.
Then suddenly, unexpectedly, the bubble of anger, hurt and betrayal burst leaving a yawning hole her in heart. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she dropped to her knees and rocked slowly back and forth. Seemingly without conscious effort on her part, her hands raised and she began to rake the dirt unto the grave, her lips moving soundlessly with the words of the Lord’s Prayer and the 23rd Psalm. She pushed dirt as long as her arms held out but finally, as the first streaks of dawn began to lighten the sky she realized that she wouldn’t be able to complete the task alone. The cemetery caretakers would have to finish it.
With a final look at the grave she turned toward home, each step taking her closer to the silent echoes of her life: Bill…Eric…Alcide. She had loved each of them and now each of them was gone. Only Eric still lived, but their last time together had been filled with her pleas to him in a desperate effort to save Bill. He’d been reluctant to be involved. ‘What had he said?’ she mused. Oh yes. ‘Do I look like a marriage counselor?’ he’d asked. A barely contained cynical smirk had danced on his lips, but he’d done it anyway. ‘Had she thanked him?’ she wondered. She couldn’t remember. Who knew if she would ever see him again? Right now, she was simply too weary to continue thinking about it.
She emerged from the tree line and the old farmhouse came into view bringing with it, as always, memories of her Gran. Sookie knew that just as she had pulled herself from the puddle of Gran’s blood and found a way to move on, she would need to find the strength to pull herself out of the tangled morass of her anger, grief and regret over Bill. Her own rueful, half hysterical giggle startled her and reminded her that this time, Bill would not be here to gather her in his arms as he had on that horrible night years before. It would be all on her to get herself through it. The days ahead would be devoted to trying to rebuild her own life and to whatever extent she was able, the town of Bon Temps. She wondered, not for the first time, if she would have the strength to get through it.