A/N: Thanks to the astute readers who pointed out my 'oops' in the spelling of Sibyl from the last chapter. Thank goodness you guys are paying attention! I assure you, Sookie is NOT a 'Sybil' with dissociative identity disorder (although, that certainly would explain a lot...). Chalk it up to a minor brain misfire.

I want to remind everyone, if you haven't read Dead to Rights, I really suggest doing so (or at the very least, chapter 16 from it). This chapter is going to confuse you a lot if you haven't.

Thank you so much for the reviews; the ones after last chapter had me positively giddy. I love that you're all enjoying the twists and turns of my warped mind. Don't fret, I promise it'll all make sense soon enough!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The rag slipped from my fingers, causing a small splash across Eric's bare legs when it landed in the pan of water. I looked down at his feet. They were covered in small cuts. Casting my eyes down my body, I saw I was clothed in the Merlotte's winter uniform. This led my gaze to the kitchen floor... my old kitchen floor... from before the fire. I blinked a few times. Am I dead?

"Sookie?" Eric said again, sounding as overwhelmed as I was.

I raised my eyes back to him, a thought occurring to me, "You know who I am?"

He nodded, the look on his face making it clear he was thinking along the same lines. "Yes, and I know who I am."

"But this..." I gestured to him, myself, and around the room.

"It certainly seems to be..." he replied hesitantly.

We didn't move, just staring at each other for a few minutes. I don't think he had any more idea what to make of this than I did. The confusion we were both feeling merely amplified each others' through the bond. Another difference...

"We're still bound," I remarked.

"Indeed," he said, standing up and plucking something from my counter, "Though, if this can be believed, we should not be."

He was holding out my word of the day calendar. I was almost afraid to look, but rose slowly to my feet, stepping beside him. I glanced nervously at the calendar in his hand... New Year's Eve... two years ago.

Eric set the calendar back down and went over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of True Blood and popping it in the microwave. The afghan slipped from his shoulders, not that he seemed to care, and I couldn't help ogling his perfect backside. He felt me watching him, I'm sure, and I just knew he had that smirk on his face. The last time he'd been in this state, he'd seemed more like a lost puppy dog. Not once had he leered at me, or made even the slightest innuendo. Now he was leaning his weight a bit onto his arms over the counter, causing the muscles in his back to ripple, and making my favorite of his body parts present more fully. Oh yeah, this was definitely compos mentis Eric.

He pulled the bottle from the microwave, turning back toward me and leaning against the counter, one foot crossing over the other. I absently licked my bottom lip, unable to stop staring.

"Lover, I would enjoy nothing more than to relive our time in your shower," he smoldered, "But, I do believe we have more pressing matters at hand."

It took me a moment to snap back to my senses. "I'm not the one... casually standing around with a drink... like it's just some typical Friday night," I said a bit sharply.

He smirked at me, "It does not appear we are in any immediate danger, and I think better when I am relaxed."

Well... huh. I guess that sorta makes sense. I see he's lost none of his pragmatism, either. Shrugging, I grabbed a diet soda from the fridge and popped the top. Eric smiled, raising his bottle toward me in a sort of cheers-like gesture, and we both took a swig. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be on drugs? I mean, things felt far too... normal for how abnormal they were.

Eric pushed off the counter and grabbed my hand, leading me into the living room. He sprawled out, taking up nearly the full length of my sofa, and guided me down to nestle between his legs, my head on his chest. Pulling the old quilt from the back of the sofa to wrap around us, he crinkled his nose.

"This thing is still hideous."

I couldn't help but laugh. This was, without a doubt, the most bizarre situation I had ever encountered, and that's saying a heck of a lot. I tried to replay all the events of the last... well, hell, I didn't even know how much time had passed. Did the last two years even happen? I still had memories of it... the witch war, the Were war, the bombing in Rhodes... all of it.

I snapped my head up to look in Eric's eyes, "Rhodes... Sophie-Anne..." I gasped.

He shook his head, softly running his fingers through my hair, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, lover. We don't even know if this is real..."

He was right, of course, but it was difficult to stop my brain from flying through all the scenarios that could be changed if this, indeed, were real. Eric was pouring waves of calm at me through the bond, and I tried to stop the wheels of my mind from spinning. He smiled at me, those gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with warmth. I began to relax, laying my cheek against his chest, feeling the familiar rumble coming from him.

"That's my girl," he said softly, continuing to stroke my hair.

I nuzzled my cheek against him, allowing myself a few moments to simply enjoy this. After all the emotional turmoil we'd been through recently, I think he needed this as much as I did. Things were certainly far from over, it seemed to me... or maybe...

"Eric?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, lover?"

"Do you think... are we... dead?"

That got a hearty chuckle out of him, and I immediately felt stupid. "You know what I mean," I said, swatting his arm.

He snugged me up tighter against him, "Well, your heart is still beating... you're still breathing..."

"True enough," I replied. "Do you think we're dreaming?"

"Vampires do not dream," he said, nipping that thought in the bud. "Not to mention it was nowhere near dawn when we... left." He paused a few moments, and I could feel him trying to sort through his thoughts. "Sookie, tell me what happened before you appeared in my cell."

"Well, let's see..." I said, organizing my own thoughts. "Amelia, Elana and I had an all night planning session to figure out how to come save all of you."

I felt him quirk a bit beneath me, "Oh? And what did that beautiful mind of yours come up with?" he mused.

I sighed, "Well, it wasn't really my idea... in fact..."

I proceeded to fill Eric in on the entire plan, and how I hadn't gotten it at first. I told him how upset and frustrated I'd been that I didn't have his flare for planning and deviousness. That made him roar with laughter, which made me a little pouty.

"You will learn, in time, lover," he murmured, his hand caressing down my back, making me instantly forget being upset. "So what happened after you three vixens developed this devious plot?"

"Well, I went to bed and had that awful nightmare."

He put a finger beneath my chin, tilting my gaze back up to him, "What nightmare?"

"It started as a good dream, actually. I felt you with me, holding me... caressing me," I sighed wistfully. "But then you kept telling me I needed to remember something, and I didn't know what you were talking about. Then you weren't there anymore... and there was this... face, only it was blank. Like it had no nose, no chin... but it did have eyes. Only, they were weird... bright green and glowing, with no whites or pupils. They kept coming closer and closer... and it made my head hurt, like my brain might explode, but I woke up before it did." I took a deep breath, realizing I'd been rambling.

"And then what, you went back to sleep?" Eric asked.

I nodded, "After splashing some water on my face and trying to figure out what I was supposed to be remembering..."

Oh God...

Eric pulled me up into a sitting position, sensing me stiffen as the proverbial light-bulb flicked on. His hands gently grasped my shoulders, and he held me with his eyes, willing me to remain calm. "What is it, Sookie? What did you remember?"

I had a sudden flash of memory... the night Bill had risen from his injuries. He... attacked me?? And then... then... ugh, think, Sookie! I put my palms to my forehead, sort of smacking myself, like I could somehow shake the memory loose...

Eric took my hands in his, holding them still, "Take your time, Sookie. Just relax... I have you."

I looked up at him in desperation, "It's there... it's right there... I can feel it... but I can't reach it." Tears were pricking at my eyes.

He regarded me a few moments, trying to feed me his strength through the bond. I felt like I was drowning, and there was a life preserver just out of reach. Why can't I remember?? I suddenly felt a whole new empathy for how it must've been for Eric when he was cursed. There was this... hole in my mind that I just couldn't access. I could see it, but I had no way to fill it in... it was almost like...

"Glamour..." I whispered.

Eric arched a brow at me, "What about it?"

"The gap in my memory... it's like the hole left by glamour that I feel when I read affected minds... but how can that be? We know it doesn't work on me..."

Eric looked totally perplexed. He caught my eyes with his own, and I felt the little tweaks of power. He was testing, and I shook my head, indicating it wasn't working. He nodded, and pulled me back into his arms, "Alright, let's come at this from a different angle, lover. What happened in Romania?"

I sighed, closing my eyes and trying to focus, spilling my memories out to Eric as they came to me. We were kneeling... I couldn't feel him through the bond. He confirmed he'd been blocking himself off from it, and I stopped myself from going on that tangent. Not important right now. I'd gotten... angry... then the pain in my head...

"Like in your dream?" Eric asked.

I paused. Yes. Exactly like that. Then... the voice...

"Sibyl..." I whispered, almost inaudibly.

Eric pushed me back, his eyes wide. "What about her?"

I shuddered from the dangerous tone in Eric's voice, "That... that's what he called me."

"Who?" Eric demanded.

"... Victor ..."

And just like that, the hole was filled.

I recounted for Eric every detail I could remember after Bill had risen. How he said I smelled so much like Eric he'd think I was him... how I'd rendered him unconscious and immobile with my kick... how everything had gotten so slow, just like in Romania. I told him how Victor appeared... and he'd had those eyes! He'd assaulted my mind, and accused me of being a masochist for not responding. He'd called me a mutt and a Sibyl... and made mention of Amun. He said it was too soon for... something, and that I wasn't ready. He'd confused the hell out of me... and there was that horrible flash of light, and then... I'd forgotten it all.

But there was one more detail...

"Eric, he called you... or rather our bond... a wrinkle. He didn't like it... but said in the long run it might prove... useful. He said he should have killed you that night you were cursed and running down the road..."

We both stared at each other. That night... was this night.

TBC