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That's Not My Name	By : marksandspence Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 6314 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have not created the True Blood (credit to Charlaine Harris & Alan Ball) or BtVS universes (credit to Joss Whedon) and do not have any claim on the characters other than the ones I have added. I make no money off of these stories.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Chapter 19
Back to the present….
[Author’s note: If you can’t quite remember where we left off, return to Chapter 15]
With Alcide driving the rental car, Peia’s mind is free to wander as she stares blankly out the window, watching the scenery pass. She tries to focus on the bats – how they will accomplish the transfer without bringing them out of their sleep. How quickly she can recreate a suitable place for them once they arrive. Unfortunately, whenever her eyes begin to close, she returns to that night. It is so easy to get sucked back into the pain of it; the emotional and physical meld together in focused intensity. An entire existence, a life, changed in just a few hours. And that speech! That fucking ridiculous speech. How could she have been so stupid as to have uttered those words? She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head.
“Is that your phone?” Alcide asks.
“What?” Peia responds, confused for a moment, although happy for the distraction.
“The beeping,” he explains.
She fishes her phone out of her bag and sees a text.
What is your Netflix password?
She responds: Shouldn’t you be asleep? Been daylight for a couple of hours…
Bored. Working on queue.
Don’t mess with my queue.
Want to add what we talked about last night.
I’m not giving you my password. Go to bed.
Fine. Will extract password when you return.
Could be fun.
You have no idea.
Peia smirks and puts her phone away. This was something new. Eric had called her last night. It was strange to talk without being in the same room with him. Definitely not something that would have occurred to her. The first few minutes had been awkward. It just seemed wrong somehow. What would they have to talk about? But then it just continued. And then an hour had gone by. She could not think of the last time she had talked on the phone for an hour. It was fun and strange and yet surprisingly normal. Which makes no sense. But neither does chatting with Eric Northman on the phone for an hour. Still, why not? Passes the time.
“Eric?” Alcide guesses.
Peia just nods. She futzes with her phone for a minute.
“Lets stop in Chattanooga. I’ll book something.” The trip was a good 24 hours long – too much to do in one day.
“Fine.”
*
They arrive in Chattanooga and as they approach the hotel, the car gets bumped from behind by some doofus teenager driving an F-150. They decide not to bother reporting the accident, but during the time it takes to sort things out with the kid, the car heats up. They had been running the air at maximum to keep the bats cold, but when they were hit, the hatch popped open and it took them a while to secure it back down.
A short time later when Peia returns to the car from the hotel lobby with the room keys, Alcide has a worried expression.
“What is it?” Peia asks.
“They’re moving,” he responds, glancing to the travel cage they had rigged up.
“Dammit. They’ll use up their reserves in a few hours,” Peia answers, concerned. “Help me bring them inside.”
They bring the crate in and put it in one of the two rooms. Peia quickly turns the AC in the room up as far as it will go.
“Want me to go out and get some bat chow or something?” Alcide offers.
“They’re vampire bats. They don’t stock blood pellets at Petco, last I checked,” she snarks.
“I’m just trying to help. What about a butcher’s shop or something?” He suggests.
“It’s too late – butchers won’t be open now,” she frowns.
Peia shakes her head and starts rolling up her sleeve.
“What are you doing?” Alcide asks in horror.
“I’m going to feed them. I won’t let them die. They don’t drink much, though I wish there weren’t quite so many,” she adds, concerned.
“Come on. There must be another option.”
“I suppose you could go out and get a deer or something. You are a wolf, right, so you could go out and find a deer and bring it back here alive and then we could sneak it into the room and….”
Alcide considers this a moment before responding, “yeah, maybe I just go and get you some bandages.”
Peia nods, opens the door of the crate and slowly inserts her naked arm.
After a while, she enters the adjoining room while wrapping a bandage around her arm. Alcide is reading a magazine on one of the beds.
“Did it work?” He asks.
“I think so. They seemed happy and went back to sleep. Doesn’t hurt. But it may be a bugger getting it to stop bleeding.” She feels a bit lightheaded.
“I think the bar is still open downstairs. Want to get a drink?”
“Absolutely.”
*
They both get a beer and sit at a small bar table. After downing most of the beer rather quickly, Alcide is the first to talk.
“Guess you must be used to that,” Alcide comments indicating her arm.
Peia lets out a small laugh.
“You held out longer than I thought.”
“What?”
“I figured twelve hours was probably your max before the snarky vampire comments started. And you made it close to sixteen.”
“Come on. What’s a girl like you hanging around Eric for?”
“Define a ‘girl like me’”, she counters.
“Not a stripper. Kind of normal, aside from the whole bat thing. Smart. Lets just say you’re not exactly his type, from what I’ve seen.”
“I’m curious. What’s his type?”
“Tall. Blonde. Big boobs. Slutty.”
“Nice.”
“Exactly. And don’t change the subject.”
She finishes her beer and orders another before answering.
“Let me start by saying that I have no delusions of romance here. For some reason, I caught his eye – not for the usual reasons. Maybe competition – I was with another vampire. Did you ever watch Seinfeld?”
“Some. Why?”
“Remember the episode where George comes up with this scam to get dates with models? He realizes that all he has to do is pretend that he used to date a model and then, incredibly, if they believe it, they will all want to date him? I think maybe it’s the same with vampires. They see you with one, they think to themselves that there must be something interesting to hold his attention and then they want to find out for themselves. So something like that.”
“Okay, well that explains why he is with you, but you still haven’t answered my question. I mean, the guy isn’t just a vampire. He’s a gangster. Is it the bad boy thing?” He says, accusingly, shaking his head.
“Family. He offered me family. You’re a wolf – you should understand the importance of that. Or aren’t werewolves the same? Do you run in packs?”
“Some do. Not me. Not for a while.”
“But you miss it.”
“Sometimes. It can get complicated.”
“Sure. But it’s a powerful idea. To always have a place to go. To always have someone to look out for you. Without the whimsy of love.”
“And you think Eric will give that to you?”
“I do. Once the romance fades away, and he goes back to his ‘type’ or finds another to capture his fascination, we’ll still be family. You said he was a gangster, which is pretty fair. But even to Tony Soprano, family comes first.”
“Maybe,” Alcide responds, skeptical.
*
Alcide wakes up to the sound of mumbling. Peia, in the next bed, is thrashing and talking, obviously in the midst of a nightmare. He listens carefully, trying to decide whether or not to wake her.
“Have to find them. Have to…I’ve left them. I forgot. Where are they??”
He gets out of bed and walks over to her. Just as he is reaching over to her to give a gentle shake, her eyes flash open. He is startled. She quickly sits up, brings her hands to her the sides of her head and starts blinking frantically. She is shaking.
“Are you okay?” Alcide asks, despite the answer being obvious.
“Pills. Vial in my bag,” she spits with effort.
He flips the light on and searches the room for her bag.
“Hurry! If he knows, he’ll come. He’ll think…” She urges, worried that already Eric might sense her distress.
Alcide finds the bags and the vial. He tries to hand it to her, but she shakes her head, seemingly unable to bring her arms down from her head.
“Grind up the pill – two – put it in water.”
He follows her instructions and returns with a plastic cup. She looks at him, the whites of her eyes glimmering in the soft light of the room. He puts the cup to her lips and tips it up. She swallows and then they wait. After five minutes, the shaking stops and her breathing becomes more regular. A couple of minutes later, she lowers her arms. Now her eyes blink with tiredness.
“That must have been some wicked dream,” Alcide comments.
“Not a dream, exactly. A memory. One I can’t always suppress when I am asleep. Sorry. Could you hand me my phone?”
She quickly texts Eric, Bad Dream. Fine now.
“Since we’re up, why don’t we just pack up and hit the road. I don’t mind if you sleep it off in the car. I’d just assume get back.” What a weird few days this has been.
“Sure.”
Peia is relieved that this was not nearly so bad as the last time. She does not actually remember much. She never does. Spike remembers, though. Somewhere between Louisiana and California – maybe El Paso? – he had woken up to an empty bed. He didn’t worry much until he didn’t find a note. Then he saw her cell phone still on the table. It had taken the better part of the night to find her. When he did, she was at a train station, approaching random strangers, doubled over as if someone had punched her in the stomach.
“I need to get back. How did I get here? I left them in New York. Oh god, how long have I been gone? Please, can you help me get a ticket? It’s been so long. What will they eat?”
She said the same thing when he approached her, eyes glazed with desperation. It took a while to work out what she was talking about. Peia had never told him the details of her life before the coma – she didn’t like to talk about it except in the most vague terms.
“Please. I need to get to New York. I have left my children. Three boys. Luke, Ernie and…and…I can’t remember. Please. I don’t know how I got here, but I have to get back to them. I think it’s been months. What’s happened to them? Why am I here?”
Spike had grabbed hold of her and looked her straight in the eye.
“Jen. It’s me, Spike. Look at me. You know me.”
Confused, she had shaken her head, then looked around with wild eyes.
“I need to get back to them. They need me.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Please. I forgot and left them. I don’t know why I did. I can’t remember.”
“Jen. Listen to me. You don’t have any children now. Look at me,” Spike pleads in a calm, comforting voice.
He shakes her, not too violently. Her eyes slowly stop moving and fix on his. It is as if she is in a trance.
With tears in her eyes, she asks, “but where are they?”
He guesses, “There was an accident a long time ago. Remember?”
“An accident?” She parrots back to him, with just a hint of a question.
“Yes. A long time ago. They don’t need you now. They’re in ….heaven or something.”
She takes this in a moment.
“An accident. They’re dead. A long time ago.” She starts to cry and then falls to her knees.
“But who will look after them there? They can’t go on their own. They’ll be so afraid. They’re only little.”
Guessing again, “Your husband was there, too. With them. In the accident. He’ll take them, I expect. They won’t be afraid because they’ll have their dad.”
She nods, accepting this. She sits there a few moments, staring off into space before going completely still. She inhales deeply and then glances around as if coming out of a deep sleep. She wipes the tears from her eyes and sighs, embarrassed. Spike hands her a lit cigarette.
Thinking back, she can usually identify the trigger after an attack. Sometimes a smell or a sound or a song on the radio. Rarely a conscious thought. It was a small miracle that Spike had been able to bring her out of it so quickly. The attacks varied in severity, for sure. That night in El Paso was hardly the worst.
Luckily, this time it was just a dream and the pills were handy – probably the fender bender, the sound of metal crushing metal.
Soon they are on their way. Peia looks forward to the calmness brought on by Eric’s touch, the tension still gripping her, despite the medicine.
*
Peia and Alcide arrived in Shreveport just before sunset. They go directly to Fangtasia and begin to unload both the bat cage and the various things Peia had picked up in New York. She gets to work clearing out a space for the bats, making sure it is ventilated and that there is an adequate opening to the outside. It is warm enough here in Louisiana for them to forage on their own as necessary. Shortly after the sun disappears, Eric and Pam arrive. Peia walks into the main room holding a piece of wood. Alcide is sitting at the bar having a glass of water. There is an awkward moment of silence, as if they are all wondering what is supposed to happen next. Not taking his eyes off Peia, Eric reaches in his jacket pocket for an envelope, hands it to Alcide with a curt “You can go now.” Which comes off as more of a command than a choice. Alcide takes the envelope grumpily and starts to walk out.
“I hope there’s a tip in there. He was very helpful.” Peia offers.
“Helpful, perhaps, but not adequately discreet as per my instructions,” Eric counters.
“Whatever,” Alcide huffs, shaking his head.
“Eric,” Peia pleads, playfully.
“There is a tip,” Eric sighs.
Alcide glances down at the envelope briefly with a pleased shrug before heading out the door.
Peia and Eric just stand staring at each other from across the room. Now that the initial moment has passed, it seems odd to rush together for an embrace. Instead, Peia utters a quick “hi,” with a small smile.
“Your arm.” Eric observes, noticing the bandage and the faint aroma of dried blood.
“I had to feed the bats,” Peia responds.
“Do you think it was wise to give them your blood?” He asks.
She thinks a moment before understanding that his concern is not for her discomfort. Super bats? Vampire vampire bats? Will have to see how that plays out…
“Guess I should have made Alcide volunteer,” she concedes.
“Do they have what they need? Are you free to leave them?” He takes a few steps forward, stopping just an arm’s length away.
“I was just looking for another piece of wood like this – to corral them so they won’t fly into the club area when they leave to forage.”
“Or, how about we don’t keep them in the club at all?” Pam snipes.
“You’ll like these bats. They’re vampire bats,” Peia offers hopefully.
“I don’t care if they drink faery blood and shit gold nuggets. They’re bats. If they get within arm’s reach, I’m killing the little fuckers.” Pam retorts, shuddering at the thought of having to touch one.
“We’ll put up your corral tonight and then perhaps we can have something built for them off the premises,” Eric suggests.
Peia responds after a moment, “Sure. Or… maybe we could put in a glass wall so customers could see them. You know, like an exhibit.”
“We are not a zoo,” Eric counters.
“Aren’t we, though?” Peia responds.
Pam thinks a minute. “She’s got a point. I guess it could be a draw. Mildly badass. But no flying around in the club – they go in and out the back.”
Peia nods her agreement.
“Draw up some designs – we can work on this tomorrow.”
“I just need a hammer and some more wood and I’ll put these up.”
Eric looks annoyed.
Seeing his look Pam takes a step forward, saying “Fine, show me where you want them and I’ll have John do it when he gets in.” She takes the board from Peia before adding, “take him out of here. He’s been clingy and pissy all week. I need some me time — I’ll be out back auditioning dancers.”
Pam leaves.
“Lets take your things back to the house. I want to show you something.”
Peia smirks, “Is it in your pants?”
“Something else. Pants stay on until you give me your password.”
“You’re going to withhold sex to get my password?”
“Would it work?”
“Absolutely, but its not much fun.”
“Lets go.”
Peia picks up a bag of things she had brought on the trip and they walk out to a car parked in the back. It is strange, because they still have not touched. Not a hug or a peck on the cheek. As the time passes, as they make there way to the house, up to the door, the lack of touch becomes intentional. As if they are playing a game. They get closer and closer, but skin stays apart from skin. And yet, they both are desperate for it. They both long for the comfort, the spark, the thrill of their unique connection. One could call it sexual tension, but it really is not quite the same. Still, they are dancing around the moment like children hoarding the last piece of Halloween candy, months later.
Once inside, Peia decides not to play anymore. She tosses her bag down, watching Eric walk across the room and before even glancing around, she asks, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” with just a hint of concern.
“I want to show you something. Once I kiss you, I won’t want to do anything else.”
This makes her smile. “So what is it?”
He gestures across the room. Where the “kitchen” used to be is now a room with a door. There is a long window across the wall facing the living room. She walks over and peers in. Surprised, she quickly walks to the door and steps into the room. In a moment, Eric is behind her, watching her explore.
“You’ve built me a kitchen. A proper kitchen. With appliances,” she practically gasps.
“The room is sealed and there is a vent to the outside.”
“So the smell won’t bother you.”
He nods, pleased with himself.
“It’s gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever had a kitchen this nice (she’s exaggerating a bit). Thank you.”
“If there is anything I have forgotten or anything not done to your liking, I can get the contractors back in.”
“I can’t believe they were able to get this done in just a few days.”
“I am good at motivating employees,” Eric responds in a rather sinister voice.
She turns and walks up to him, purposefully. She lifts herself up on her tiptoes and simultaneously puts her hand on the skin of his neck and softly presses her cheek next to his. The relief of the touch makes her knees wobbly. Sensing her faltering balance, Eric wraps his arms around her, pulling her tight to him.
She whispers softly in his ear, “you are good to me.”
Next, she hears his fangs drop…
**
- 18
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That's Not My Name