Title: Our Inner Fire Goes Out
Rating: M / Mature
Summary: Eric Northman is many things: he is the co-owner of a successful bar, has been a fire fighter for almost five years and is in love with his best-friend’s younger sister. But when tragedy strikes and Eric is forced home, will he be able to confront a lost friend and a girl he thought hates him, only to realise she had pined for him as much as he has her. All Human. POV story with flashbacks.
Authors Notes: (1) I do not own True Blood or Sookie Stackhouse Southern Vampire Mysteries fandoms. I only borrow the characters and place them in interesting situations for my own pleasure. (2) This story is very loosely based off of Chicago Fire and as such, shall contain some drama and character deaths. (3) I know I shouldn’t be writing ANOTHER new story but this came into my head the other night and I just had to get it down on paper (well, on virtual paper) and share it with you all. (4) Not beta read but if you would like to, feel free to contact me. (5) Reviews and feedback are most welcome. No flames though. These will be ignored and deleted.
Fuck it’s hot, I think as I kick the door down and call out. “Anyone here! Call out!” I shout, peering through the hazy smoke and growing flames. I hated house fires, hated them because they started by ignorance and stupidity. After almost thirty minutes of checking, we call all clear and leave the house; the truck boys spray the house down, the flames of the building dying down almost instantly.
“Good work, Northman,” the happy voice of our Chief Stan Baker stated, hand on my shoulder as he came beside me, “glad no one was inside.”
“Seems a little strange, calling in Squad, don’t you think Chief?” I was a fire fighter on Rescue Squad of the Shreveport Fire Department and had been for almost five years now. Stan had been the one to recommend me not long after I joined Truck. We were for rescues of the difficult rating. House fires weren’t usually our calling, especially when there’s no one inside.
“Just being cautious,” he replied, grinning and walking off towards his four-wheel-drive. That was strange.
“Hey Lt,” came a voice and I spun to see my friend and fellow rescue member, John Quinn standing behind me, “A few of the guys and I are going to a bar tonight after work, wanna join?” I grinned at the idea he suggested. The guys knew I co-owned a bar in Shreveport called Norse and we went there almost every week for drinks. Pam, my business partner and fellow owner, keeps telling me to keep them away because they drink all the beer. I just smile and tell her to get over it.
Pam and I met in college when we were in a business class together. Sure the girl was hot and gorgeous and all around beautiful, but she was in no way going to fall to my charms. Pam is, well, she’s a girl lover. Has been her whole life, or so she says. So every time the guys and I go to the bar for drinks, Quinn had this thing of hitting on her until she slapped him. “You know she’s just gonna hit you and kick you out right?” I reply, heading back to the truck and hopping in the passenger seat. Quinn climbs in the driver seat and grins.
“Yeah, but I know the owner so I’ll just get back in,” he laughed. I smiled at Quinn; he was a good friend and had been since I started here. He was a year older than me and had been with the Squad longer so I was shocked when he passed up Lieutenant and let me have it. “I don’t need it,” he had said.
“So, have any plans this weekend?” he asked me, snapping me from my thoughts, “And ladies on the horizon?”
“Not at the moment, Quinn,” I replied, as he turned the truck towards the station.
“Dude, you and that chick broke up a year ago. I think its time man.”
“Her name was Felicia,” I said, slightly annoyed he had brought up my ex again. I was really trying to forget about her, “and its not like I haven’t tried dating. I just haven’t found the right girl.” Quinn chuckled as he pulled into the station and parked the truck. We hoped out and headed inside. I really needed a shower. “Hey, get lunch ordered. I’m gonna grab a quick shower.”
After heading to the showers and stripping, I stood in the middle of the stall, the pressure of the water falling over me. I could stand in a shower for hours, if only I didn’t have to work. Fifteen minutes later I quickly dressed in the dark grey pants and shirt the Squad wear.
As I walk out of the showers, Quinn grabs my arm. “Hey dude. There’s some chick here to see you.” I raise an eyebrow, not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I’m serious,” he says, dragging me by the arm and pulling me towards the trucks.
There, standing in a white sundress with a small yellow cardigan and yellow flats, is Sookie Stackhouse. Her blonde hair falls down her back and her eyes seem entranced as she looks around the station. My eyes can’t leave her. She’s actually here.
Sookie and I have known each other for over ten years. I met her though her brother, Jason, who just happens to be (or may, was) my best friend. We all grew up in the small town of Bon Temps, an hour’s drive from Shreveport and while I had gone into the fire fighters, Jason had become a sheriff’s deputy. We had all grown up, the three of us and though Sookie was three years younger than Jason and I, she still hung around us like she was a bad smell. But I hadn’t mind. I’d stuck up for the girl. Especially when she hit eighteen and her features formed. The girl was gorgeous, a true Southern Belle and although I was pretty sure I was in love with her from that moment, I never acted on it because of Jason. Well, maybe I had once… but that wasn’t important.
“Sook?” I question, using the pet name I used for her. She turned quickly and eyed me and it was then that I saw the redness of her eyes and the tears on her cheeks. I rushed forward and grabbed her, held her cheeks with my hand as I asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She closed her eyes for a brief minute and sobbed before opening them again and answering me.
“Eric, Gran died.”
Why was I doing this? Why had I travelled an hour to see a guy who obviously didn’t want to see us anymore? Five years had gone by since Eric had left Bon Temps for Shreveport to be a fire fighter. I had encouraged him, of course, made him stick to his dream and he had made it without failure. I also heard he opened a bar up with someone he met at college.
I had left Bon Temps the day after Gran died when I finally decided that Eric should to told- and why not? The guy had grown up with us at school and he was always there for me and Jason and Gran. Jason had told me to forget him; obviously they hadn’t quite patched up their friendship. But I was adamant to find Eric and tell him. He should know.
I had climbed into my car – an old school yellow Nova that had belonged to Gran before she gave it to me – and started the drive to Shreveport a bundle of nerves. I checked my watch when I left – 4:15pm – and realised that I would get there after the normal closing time and hoped Eric would still be working. The guy had been great when we were younger. He had accepted me and stood up for me when Jason had tried to send me off instead of hanging with them. He was nice. And after… well… that’s not important right now.
I pull into Shreveport Station at 5:15pm and am amazed that I kept my time. I could see the open doors and two very large red fire trucks parked ready to be called out at any moment. Parking my Nova next to what looked to be a very overpriced, fancy rich mans red convertible, I grabbed my handbag and made my way inside.
“Excuse me,” I said to a larger guy who was walking buy. “Hi, um… I’m looking for Eric. Eric Northman. He works here?” The guy grinned and told me to wait here while he grabbed Eric. As he rushed off I felt the nerve getting the better of me. Why was I here? Eric wouldn’t care, wouldn’t want to know. Oh god, Gran. I’m thinking of it again. Thinking of how I was the one who had found her, yesterday morning in bed. Gran is usually out of bed by eight each morning so by ten I was worried. The sight that I was greeted with when I opened her door made me scream and cry at the same time. Oh god, now I’m crying. I feel the wetness drip onto my cheeks and I manage to wipe a few away. I can’t let him see me like this.
“Sook?” I hear and turn quickly. Oh god, its him, its Eric. Five years and he’s still Eric. Still him and I’m still me and I…I… He rushed over to me and grabbed me, held my cheeks in his large hands as he asks me what’s wrong and I close my eyes and sob before opening them and answering him plain and simple.
“Eric, Gran died.”
Well, here is chapter one. The next chapter will have the “incident” that Sookie and Eric referred to. I’ve had a bunch of ideas and created a heap new stories but I will be finishing the old ones as well as continuing these. Reviews are welcomed and enjoyed.