Room 516 [all day]
Sookie had been obediently on bedrest since they'd returned from Shreveport last night. Both Karla and Raven had been quite adamant about her need to sleep and rest, no matter how shiny her hair was, thanks to Bill's help. And really, she hadn't argued -- after the events of the week, there was little she wanted to do more than just let her body sit still for awhile.
But she had to admit, it was not the most exciting thing. She'd exhausted her supply of games on her computer, going so far as to prod at a Facebook farm thingie she'd abandoned months before. She'd tried watching movies, but despite her better efforts, she either dozed off or simply zoned out in the middle of it.
She tried books, and magazines, and even sought entertainment from Tina, who mostly wanted to sleep. All of these things, though, were poor substitutes for answers, or a way to really distract her from her thoughts. Every time she closed her eyes, images of Russell or Bill, Eric or werewolves surged back into her mind. If she wasn't dwelling on Bill's betrayal, she was absently touching her neck, looking for scars (even if her wrist wasn't showing any.)
Bobby had been hovering, sometimes there when she woke, sometimes absent, and always trying not to show his fairly obvious concern. And there was a stab of guilt, there, too -- for making him worry, for making all of them worry, and for putting everyone in danger.
Again.
But the biggest concern, the one at the forefront of her mind, was the continual question of what she was. After these last exploits, Sookie had settled upon the similarly irritating answers of, "Definitely not human," and "Eric knows."
These were the things she wasn't thinking about, when she could help it, and yet they were all she could concentrate on when she couldn't.
[door cracked, post open, wheeee!]
But she had to admit, it was not the most exciting thing. She'd exhausted her supply of games on her computer, going so far as to prod at a Facebook farm thingie she'd abandoned months before. She'd tried watching movies, but despite her better efforts, she either dozed off or simply zoned out in the middle of it.
She tried books, and magazines, and even sought entertainment from Tina, who mostly wanted to sleep. All of these things, though, were poor substitutes for answers, or a way to really distract her from her thoughts. Every time she closed her eyes, images of Russell or Bill, Eric or werewolves surged back into her mind. If she wasn't dwelling on Bill's betrayal, she was absently touching her neck, looking for scars (even if her wrist wasn't showing any.)
Bobby had been hovering, sometimes there when she woke, sometimes absent, and always trying not to show his fairly obvious concern. And there was a stab of guilt, there, too -- for making him worry, for making all of them worry, and for putting everyone in danger.
Again.
But the biggest concern, the one at the forefront of her mind, was the continual question of what she was. After these last exploits, Sookie had settled upon the similarly irritating answers of, "Definitely not human," and "Eric knows."
These were the things she wasn't thinking about, when she could help it, and yet they were all she could concentrate on when she couldn't.
[door cracked, post open, wheeee!]