Isabel calls the survivors to attention, and Jason yells, "Hey! Y'all listen up!" (I'm going to say this is 30% what he would do anyway, 40% a holdover from the LODI, 20% a need to feel control after what just happened, 5% to prove himself to everybody that although he was a member of Luke's cult until about an hour ago, he has his shit together. The other 5% has to do with the fact that Godric looks like David Archuleta.) Godric tells everybody in the nest to get their asses to the Hotel Carmilla, which has made housing and protection available for them. Sookie stresses out about the Eric blood all over that awesome white coat they gave her, and Bill is pouty, so Eric just stands there being awesome until they go away, and then it's just Godric, all alone in the middle of destruction, smoking all around him. He breathes it in, before he walks away.
Sookie comes out into their hotel room, freshly scoured and showered, perturbed and shivery and sort of totally into it. "I could kick myself! I'm so stupid! I wasn't thinking." Bill points out that Eric did take bullets for her, which was swell of him, and also means they're both alive (or "alive") and can continue to be totally in love all the time. "I know better than to believe one word out of that man's mouth!" Sookie says, really getting into the disgust/titillation thing in that V.C. Andrews way only Southern girls can, kicking her legs up in the air and grinning through her horror: "I sucked his chest! What is wrong with me?!" Bill, taking her at her word -- and unable to properly enjoy anything in the entire universe, especially irony, because if Bill even knew irony existed he would explode in a hail of ones and zeroes -- is like, "Well, Suckie, Eric is better than us."
He sits closer to her on the bed: "Plus, this is all about me. And you're a great person, so he knew that and used it against me. So this is kind of all your fault, but it's okay because you're retarded, which is darling."
Suckie continues to revel in her sexy horror. "But his blood! I tried to spit it all out! But some of it must have gone shooting down my throat! And all over my face! And between my breasts!"
"It only takes a drop or two," Bill says, nodding soberly.
The ironically worst part, she notes with actual disgust, is how Eric will now always know A) where she is and B) how she feels. Um, first of all that's your power, so don't be a hypocrite. And second of all, you've never sucked on my chest and I know both of those things. A) Bill's house, masturbating on the front porch or lying in cold rat-shitty dirt next to a dead person, or on that couch where every single thing goes down. Or at Fangtasia! yelling at thousand-year-old killers until they want to slap you. Or at Merlotte's, shitting on Sam. That's all you ever do. Those are the only places you go. And B) Appalled.