When Gabe unlocks their cell door, Hugo asks about his Jason-branded face before telling him Sookie knows everything, bitching: "Never would have happened if you hadn't kept me locked down with a goddamn mind reader! I hope the Reverend knows that I'm gonna need protection now..." Gabe protects his entire body, starting with his face: "You want protection, you fangbanging sack of shit? How's that for protection, huh?" Sookie, stunned, watches him protect Hugo for awhile before jumping screeching onto Gabe's back, and gets herself protected right into a shelf, hard. His pride, his desire, are all dammed up and hateful. The first thing he saw was her breasts, and how dirty they were. How they could never be his, how tainted she was. He wraps his hands around her throat and she recoils. "Your own kind not good enough for you? How about if I show you what you've been missing?"
She screams, so loud. Anything but that. Do this, take that, in the house of God, and you undo all the good works she and Bill have made together. Bill feels it, eyes popping open as Lorena's droning on, to keep herself awake -- "...and a decade or so in Miami. The beaches are gorgeous at night, and the German tourists are delicious..." -- and throws a chair at the door, zooming to it. She grabs him from behind, pressing him against it. "Open that door and I will end you."
It wouldn't be the first time. Bill has ended more times than we give him credit for, and the strength with which he did it is something we never knew. His steadfast, obsessive moaning has never meant quite so much. She screamed and cried, begging, angry: "I've given you everything. Everything! And you threw it away moaning over what you've lost. You disgust me!" Then, he begged, "Let me go." He was his, she protested, and he said the thing you don't say, that he didn't love her. "You have never tried!" she shrieked, and he got hilarious, as he is wont to do: "I have spent decades trying! I despise myself for what I did for you. God help me, I killed innocent people to prove to you that I loved you. But it was pure nihilism. I do not, I cannot, I will never love you."
Her hurt became offense and she came close: "Hurt becomes offended: Men have readily laid down their lives to spend just one night with me." He was a little sad for her, growing up suddenly in that moment, and seeing how dreadfully afraid she was. How strong she never was; how they agreed together that she was stronger than she ever could have been. "What more can I give? What is it that you want from me?" Just a choice. "Let me go." ("You'd be a fool to cling to me/ To live a lie would bring us pain/ Release me, and let me love again...") She swore without her he would be alone forever, but he wasn't afraid of that anymore. She'd killed his family, standing outside that house and telling him he could never go back. He'd become accustomed to loneliness already. "You're the one that's afraid of that. You are the saddest, loneliest creature I have ever known." He hadn't met Maryann yet; he still hasn't.