Before me stretched an Institute from that radicalized organization Fellowship of the Sun. For a moment, I wasn't sure if I was really awake.

What does a vampire want with the Fellowship of the Sun?

That was my first thought. However it was quickly replaced by an even more confused: Why is Jason Stackhouse standing in front of me, waving like a madman? 

"Ash?" Jason's voice sounded as confused as I felt, but then he hugged me enthusiastically.

"What are you doing here?"

"That," I poked him in the chest, "is what I was about to ask you!" Jason looked down, embarrassed, answering my next, unspoken question. "Oh, Jason, no!"

I wasn't exactly a fan of vampires. My past and my leisure activities (where I sometimes roamed the city like Buffy, having staked one or two vampires in my lifetime) were proof enough. But joining a racist, sexists, close minded terrorist organization that claimed to be doing God's work by bringing light back into the darkness was a step too far for even for me—and I didn't even have a sister dating a vampire.

"Does Sookie know?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Jason grabbed my arm before I knew what was happening and pulled me along. Was "Drag-Ash-Along" night or something?

At least Jason had the decency to explain, while nearly ripping my arm out of its socket.

"That's what's bothering me. Sookie had no idea I was here, and yet Sarah just said—" He caught my confused look and corrected himself. "The pastor's wife—Sarah Newlin—said they have Sookie!"

Finally, the pieces in my mind started to fit together. Or at least some of them.

1.) Sookie was in Dallas, helping Eric (after she owed him a favor for saving her life). 

2.) Eric had gotten her into trouble (again) and was now (hopefully) on his way to help her.

Guilt enveloped me, its harsh tendrils cutting me open. Everything was going tits up and it was my stupid fault. AGAIN. If she hadn't gotten me out of trouble by striking a deal with Eric, she wouldn't be in danger once more. Too bad she had the bad fortune of being my friend. Stepping into trouble or messing up other people's lives (and my own) was something I'd become so good in, I'd win gold metals if it were ever to become an Olympic sport.

Now however, all I could do was clean up my mess. It was my turn to grab Jason's arm and drag him along. "Let's go." With purpose, I headed toward the entrance without a plan or weapons. Jason tried to stop me, but my stubborn ass ignored him.

"Damn, girl, you're strong."

I grunted.

"Damn it, Ash, stop! Ouch!" Jason flailed like a fish out of water, so I paused. "We can't just waltz in there. They know we're coming, we need a pl—"

Loud sirens interrupted him, making me grin triumphantly.

"Looks like they know we're here."

I grinned; Jason sulked.

"Come on!"

Faster than I could think, we ran towards the main entrance. We'd started up on a hill, with the entrance to the huge church like building at the bottom, so we nearly tumbled through the door as we stumbled to a stop. A horde of so-called "worshippers," armed to the teeth with bizarre, makeshift weapons, blocked our path.

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down there, young lady!" A particularly slimy guy with a Confederate flag cap stopped me. The unofficial symbol of racism and prejudice against... well, pretty much everything that wasn't white, heterosexual, christian and male. How fitting. I was about to swing my arm back to knock him out (hopefully), when Jason grabbed my raised fist and pulled me to him. Already about to protest, I heard Jason, surprisingly, de-escalate the situation.

"Whoa, Brett, careful. Almost got her swing'n true here. But everything is fine, right guys? She's with us, brought in for reinforcement." Jason grinned charmingly, like I'd seen him do many times at Merlotte's, and Brett's aggressive stance relaxed a bit. Then he raised his hand, showing off a tacky ring gleaming in the bog overhead lights.

"Truth!"

I looked at Brett in confusion. Jason mirrored the 20-watt bulb's expression, also wearing a ring, his face serious.

"Truth."

Oookay. That seemed to be the password, as Tick, Trick, and Track at the door let us pass and even handed Jason a weapon on our way through. Handy.

"Wooden bullets are already loaded!"

I tilted my head. Maybe I had underestimated the organization. I might have fought more on the side of vampires than humans recently due to a series of unfortunate events. Still, I appreciated great ingenuity. I decided to keep in mind that Jason now had a weapon capable of killing a vampire from a distance. You never knew.

We entered the foyer and split up to cover more ground. As I moved, a scene unfolded that would be forever etched into my memory. Eric, shoulders slumped and with an expression as if basic arithmetic was challenging, shuffled around the corner. He slouched toward a small group of "guards." "Hey, y'all."

I stifled a hysterical giggle. He sounded like a farmer from a children's show. "Looks like a vampire got loose, huh!" The others stared at him, while he hunched even more, trying to appear smaller—a futile effort. Even hunched, he towered over them, not to mention his authoritative presence. The group seemed unconvinced.

"Where's your wooden stake?" one of the seemingly smarter ones asked. Eric rolled his eyes theatrically. I wondered if Eric had ever been an actor in his 1000 years. Maybe during Shakespearean times, where everything was exaggerated and dramatic. "Oh, damn. I must have forgotten it..." he cast his gaze downwards before sheepishly turning it back up. His whole demeanor was so at odds with his character, my brain seemed to short-circuit. I knew that I needed to move, needed to do... something. But I was frozen in place, glued to the scene. 

"Can I borrow yours?" he asked in his still unusually high voice, though tension was starting to show. A blonde head peeking around a corner at the end of the room caught my attention. Sookie?

Carefully, I wanted to move closer without disrupting whatever Eric's plan was. Because he had to have a plan... right? The air crackled with tension, and as the hairs on my arms stood up from the static, I turned my head back toward Eric, who'd just noticed my presence. Quickly, he refocused on his opponent, who was about to hand him the wooden stake.

He had glamoured him. The man blinked, confused, looking at his stake, then at Eric. His eyes widened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another guard raising his stake to stab Eric, and I... hesitated. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, all centered on one question.

Should Eric live? Or should he die?

All I needed to do was warn him or let him face his fate. It wouldn't even be my doing, not my hand committing the murder. The more time I spent with Eric the more clear it became, that some unwanted connection had formed between us. I was no longer certain, I'd be able to actually raise a hand against him, but letting him die simply by not intervening? 

My hesitation was enough for the decision to be taken out of my hands when Sookie loudly warned him. Eric, in one smooth motion, pushed his attacker away and fought his way free—surprisingly gently, I noticed. I had expected more flying body parts, maybe a ripped out heart or two however he merely seemed to bruise some egos. When the immediate danger was subdued,  Sookie ran to him, distraught and relieved.

But Eric didn't look at her, not yet: The one second Sookie took to close the distance, Eric gave gave a look that made me freeze. He had seen my hesitation to warn him. And he was disappointed. His look felt like a painful strike right to the chest, disorienting me enough so it took me a moment to remember that I also needed to get going. But Sookie and Eric didn't run through the door they had just cleared. Instead, they headed further into the church. As I followed, I understood why they hadn't chosen the front entrance.

A group of armed men stormed in, and I retreated into the shadows. They entered the room where Eric and Sookie had just disappeared in, cornering them. Damn. Reverend Newlin's mocking voice echoed through the room. My heart sank, which was absolutely not a good development because it meant I was worried about Eric. When had it come to this?

I was about to rush forward when Jason held me back and explained his plan. Jason was, I still couldn't believe it, completely focused and had actually thought everything through.

"We'll split up!" he explained, using clear and precise words to outline the church's layout. His newfound authority showed in his voice, firm and confident, calm and deep without sounding arrogant and I couldn't deny a sudden attraction to him growing. Maybe I had underestimated Jason. He planned to use the balcony for a tactical advantage while I, being relatively non-threatening as a woman in the eyes of those sexists pigs, could enter through the main entrance mainly unnoticed. So that's what I did.

The door swung open, and all eyes (and weapons) turned to me. Great. So much for looking non-threatening. What was I supposed to do now? Smile and wave?

My eyes scanned the crowd, the weapons, and the faces. Then I saw Eric.

"And yet another whore of Babylon, wishing to join the pyre of Hell," a small man near the altar where Eric lay muttered upon seeing me.

"Come again?" I did not like being called a whore. 

Eric, bound with silver and fangs bared, his skin smoking and smelling burnt, groaned. Sookie was pleading for his life while the Reverend prattled on with biblical nonsense while ignoring us at the same time. He wasn't addressing us, he was talking to his followers, all jacked up on power.  Motivated zealots grabbed me (though I could easily have slipped free) as Eric said something that could only be attributed to silver poisoning.

"I'll sacrifice myself if Godric and the girls can go free."

That had to be part of another elaborate plan. There was no way Eric fucking Northman had martyr tendencies. Right? Even Reverend Newlin appreciated his noble proposal... and decided in the same breath to bind me and Sookie to him at dawn so we could burn right beside him to cleanse our dirtied souls to enter heaven. Sookie screamed and struggled, Eric snarled, and I? I sighed heavily—and then started laughing hysterically as I realized the irony of the situation. Instead of avenging my dead boyfriend's killer, I was to die as one of his whores. Karma is a bitch.

The church fell silent. Eric, Sookie, the Reverend, and even many of his "followers" looking at me as if I had lost my mind, which honestly, wasn't that far off. Tears of laughter streamed down my face, and I had to bend forward to catch my breath, my voice already becoming hoarse.

"Huuu, puuuh. Wait. I'll be fine in a moment..." I tried to compose myself.

"Silence, whore!" shouted the Reverend, displeased with my reaction to his threat, making me laugh even more. Gasping for breath, the door behind me burst open, and an enraged Bill stormed in.

"Bill!" Sookie squealed like the Southern belle she was.

"Sookie!" Bill shouted back, equally theatrically, nearly triggering another bout of laughter from me – Once the dam breaks, it's hard to stop. Another giggle slipped free. That's when Billy noticed me "Ash?"

His gaze flicked between me and Eric, back and forth like at a tennis match, and a knowing look dawned on his face. He assumed I was with Eric. Eric, bound with silver or not, managed to grin wickedly, stoking the rumor mill even on his last breaths. I rolled my eyes. Great.

I shot him a (hopefully) withering look and nodded at Bill in greeting, my hands still held behind my back. Still chuckling and a bit out of breath from my laughing fit.

"Morning, Bill how have you been?"

Reverend Newlin, unhappy that we weren't taking his threats seriously and thereby undermined his authority or whatever, aimed his weapon at Sookie. That sobered me up quickly, and I could finally focus again.

"One more step, and the girl dies."

Bill bargained with Newlin for Sookie's life, Sookie pleaded for Bill's, and Eric and I stood like side characters as Jason (finally!) put his plan into action.

A shot rang out, and Newlin dropped his weapon.