Jason finds the weirdest things to be jealous about, but in this case it does seem kind of unfair that he's getting the bullet-hole PTSD hallucinations while everybody else is falling finally at Andy's feet. Maybe, Jason thinks yet again, he deserves to be in jail. "I keep trying to do good all the time, but all I ever end up doing is just hurting people."
(Screwing every girl in town was going alright until they all started screwing vampires too, at which point my sexuality got a little confused and I started to think I was a serial killer. Once that turned out to be untrue and my sister cut off his head with a shovel, I turned to drugs, first with a transvestite prostitute of my acquaintance and later with a pretentious Wiccan. About a month ago my vampire father-figure -- whose blood I was draining for my own sexual gratification -- got blown up right in front of me and I woke up in bed with yet another corpse, so I joined a paramilitary cult in Texas and eventually fornicated with my new evangelical father-figure's wife, who shot me in the nuts with a paint gun. I got back to Louisiana just in time to stage the annunciation of the Horned God incarnate, but ended up becoming the zombie slave of a minotaur. Now I've blamed my first murder of father-figure number three, and mostly what I do these days is see bullet holes in people's heads, which is just real hard on my boner.)
"You're a good guy, Stackhouse. You got a lot of heart. You're prettier than most girls. If you just applied yourself right, you could accomplish almost anything." Which, Andy swears, is the reason he's babysitting Jason and keeping him from turning himself in. Jason cranes over the table and holds Andy's head close to his breast: "I love you, Andy." Andy's been getting a lot of that, but he means it. "You're my best friend," Jason says, which Andy points out is just sad. For everybody.
Sam chases Tommy through the forest and onto the road, having the time of his life, until Tommy waits just long enough to lure Sam out in front of a truck, and then shifts easily into the form of a bird, flying out of harm's way. A suddenly human Sam finds himself rolling in the dust, victim of a near-murder by his trashy new brother.
A stranger in very pointy boots and split-cuff jeans breaks into the Compton house while Jessica's out, rifling through Bill's office until he finds a very secret drawer, and in that drawer is a very secret file, and in that file are secrets about Sookie Stackhouse not even Sookie Stackhouse knows: Clippings from her childhood, photos more recent including one in her Merlotte's uniform, even a genealogical chart going back many generations, with just two names circled: Adele's husband Earl, and Sookie's own. (Hmm.)