I do not own these characters, but I am tremendously inspired by them. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so I thought I'd begin with a one shot so as to gently break in my writing muscles. This story reflects the way I wanted it to happen at the moment Eric's memory returned.

Shout out to the girls of the IMDB TB Message Board – AlexanderSkarsgardfan, TrippinZiggy, Hardy Bam, Altheafaerie, Withering Sage, Fairy Moon Goddess, Sun Yat Sen - You all make me laugh and think.

All comments are welcome.

I remembered how my stomach had flipped when Eric opened the closet and grabbed the Benelli. We looked at each other, somewhat confused, knowing it meant something vital and yet not quite understanding. My thoughts started racing but I pushed them to the back of my mind so I could focus on the matter at hand – which was how to survive the next few hours.

OK so we DID survive, and, at least for the short term, the lives of those I cared about were going to remain as they were. The dead would not be "finally" dead, and the living would remain living. I couldn't help but feel that we had dodged a huge bullet (And I knew something about that, having been fired upon more times than I cared to remember.) Now I could start thinking about what this would all mean. And I could also go back into my brain and try to pull up that nagging thought. What was that again? Oh yeah – Eric remembered where I had kept the shotgun! Just what else did he remember? And how was I going to deal with it?

When I found him sitting there on my bed with his head in his hands, I knew the answer to the first question. It made me want to lock myself in my bathroom and hide. As Mark Twain said, "Denial ain't just a river in Egypt". But I was getting so tired of this denial thing. Ever since my life changed the day that vampire walked into Merlotte's, I'd been waging battles left and right and I was getting battle worn. If Eric remembered what we had meant to each other during the time he was under the witch's curse, that could mean the biggest battle yet. It was something I had feared would happen – and yet if I was totally honest with myself, I had to admit that I also feared it would NOT happen. Why didn't I seem to know what I wanted? It was time for me to grow up and figure it out.

I took one look at the Viking on my bed and could see the truth on his face.

"Sookie…..I remember everything."

I sat down next to him and couldn't help myself – I reached for his hand.

"I guess I knew this day would come. Tell me what you remember."

"I remember the confusion I felt. I remember the kindness you offered. I remember feeling things that in my 1,000 years of existence, I never thought I would feel again. I remember my desire for you, and I remember what we did. In every room of this house. Repeatedly."

"And how do you feel about these remembrances now?"

"Lover, I'm stunned. The way it was, when I was with you for that time, is not like the way I have lived my 'life' these past hundreds of years." And yet, when I look at your face, dear one, I can see how you brought it out of me. I knew I wanted you from the moment I first saw you. I made this known to you at every opportunity. And yet it was not until I had no memory of myself that I had the opportunity to act upon what I now realize were feelings I had for you. Not just desire – although my desire for you is considerable. But something more. This knowledge has answered questions for me Sookie. Now I understand why I have been so distracted. Why I have felt so empty – so incomplete. I have loved you for a long time. I have not named it as love until now."

I had practically stopped breathing while he was talking. What he said made sense and I understood. I had been struggling with the thought that while Eric was under the spell, it wasn't really Eric, so what we shared wasn't valid. It was easier for me to think of it like that, because I needed to protect myself. I never believed that this powerful creature could love me when he was in his right mind. "Love" and Eric did not seem to go together. When the love came though, from the non compos mentis Eric, I accepted it. Now, listening to him, I realized both Erics were one and the same. He did love me. He had shown it over and over from the time we first met. He was always there for me. He protected me, he followed me into danger, he took bullets for me, he gave me the gift of his blood when I needed it. He was always truthful. He made me laugh – he "got" me. It was like a light went on over my head. I finally realized it – that I also had not named it as love until now.

I told him all the things I had just been thinking.

We looked into each other's eyes, and knew that the road ahead would be a challenge. He caressed my cheek, I gently wound my fingers into his hair. Words seemed unnecessary – the bond we shared communicated completely.