Don't worry! I didn't abandon you. Here it is: the last chapter of 'Forget-me-not'. Thank you for staying with me this whole time!

I also what to thank two wonderful ladies who had been helping me with this story - Breathesgirl for her work and advise on the first part of the story and Gonsalsy who helped me with the later chapters, including this one. You're great, girls!

Disclaimer: You know what? They can have it. I'll let you. I'm kind like that.

Previously:

"Sleep," he said simply. "You need rest."

He didn't make any move that would suggest that he meant to leave, so without any further discussion I closed my eyes and obediently drifted into sleep in his arms. For the first time in weeks, I didn't dream of anything.

It was still dark when I woke up. I shifted restlessly and then I realised what woke me: Eric's absence. He was just slipping out of bed.

"Where are you going?" I asked a little too sharp for my own liking.

"The night will be over soon," he replied. "I have to go back to Shreveport."

It was an absolutely logical answer – Eric was a vampire and I didn't have a light-tight space in my current apartment. Still, I couldn't stop myself from feeling a sting of disappointment, as unwarranted as it was. I watched as he pulled on his clothes, quickly and quietly.

"You should go back to sleep," he said.

I didn't know what to say to him. Thanks for the night? See ya?

"If you say so," I mumbled instead, avoiding the issue.

He smiled at me sitting back on the edge of the bed.

"Sookie?" he said, shaking me out of my gloomy thoughts.

"Huh?"

I was startled when instead of answering he dove in for a goodbye kiss.

"I'll see you later," he said and I had to stop myself from reading too much into his words.

After he left I rolled over and closed my eyes. I was so exhausted that despite the emotional turmoil I fell asleep almost immediately.

When I woke up again, I was, unsurprisingly, alone. I stared at the ceiling for a good five minutes. I was a little overwhelmed with everything that had happened during the last twenty-four hours.

I turned onto my side and my eyes stopped at the nightstand. I was surprised to see a blood-red rose lying on it. I furrowed my brows and lifted myself on my elbow. I remembered Eric leaving and I didn't think anyone had come into the room after that (or at least I hoped not).

I picked up the note lying next to the flower and snorted when I read it:

Don't get up. I'll be back.

E

And then I snorted again after I realized that the rose came from the bush in the neighbours' garden. Eric must have picked it when he was sneaking out and then come back to leave it after I fell asleep, or maybe the other way around – he had picked it earlier in the night when I was sleeping. It was possible. I was so tired I might have missed it.

I knew I should disapprove, but for some reason the idea of Eric stealing a rose for me put me in a good mood.

This was something new: first – while the colour fit perfectly into what I knew about Eric's taste, the kind of flower not so much, secondly – usually he just called someone and bought whatever he wanted. I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. After all, it wasn't news to me that when Eric saw something he liked, he took it.

I shook my head.

I decided to get up, disregarding Eric's advice. I groaned when I discovered that I was aching all over – in some places for more pleasant reasons than others. I straightened my back carefully. I hoped that it would get better during the day, because there was no way I could waitress if I had to move so gingerly.

I put the rose into water. It had already started to wither a little, but I hoped that could be reversed if I acted quickly. Of course, in my haste I cut my finger.

Thorns. Right. Maybe roses suited Eric much more than I had realised at first.

The symbolism of that was so blatant it seemed almost funny, but I didn't let my mind wander too far. I could see a shady line if I dwelled on that particular analogy, and the fact that I wanted to keep the rose despite its thorny nature. Instead, I busied myself with my morning routine and tried to put thoughts of Eric aside for later.

The rest of the day flew by quickly. I had a stray thought when I was sorting the laundry that I was going to run out of work clothes soon if got injured in my Merlotte's uniform a few more times. I made a mental note to ask Sam to order some new white tops for me.

It wasn't the end of my clothes-related problems either. Later, when I was leaving for work, I faced yet another dilemma – I remembered that my coat was unwearable, and what was more, I couldn't even find it.

"Oh, Eric," I sighed when I realised that he must have taken it with him.

I supposed this meant I could expect him to send me another one sometime soon, but for the moment I didn't have a coat, so I opted for wrapping myself in my warmest sweater, intent on making it quickly to the car.

Despite Eric's suggestion, I had no intention of spending the whole day idly.

"Hi, Sookie!" Halleigh greeted me when I was locking the door. "I heard about Sweetie! It's really terrible, but I'm glad you're fine."

It was a very peculiar feeling, realising that Halleigh didn't remember anything about her own part in last night's events. Probably the same could be said about the rest of the town-folks. In a way, it was as if nothing had ever happened. I could almost believe it myself – that is, if not for the fresh bite-marks from two different sets of fangs I was sporting – the less visible, though most recent ones, belonged to Eric, the other to Charles. It was a good thing that Mickey hadn't got a chance to bite me – that would have really been too much.

At least the chat helped me discover that Halleigh thought she had slept through it all and learned about the shooting only that morning from the news. Apparently, that was the version Pam had installed into her mind – or maybe she really had literally told her to go to sleep and forget it all? Well, on the bright side, at least I didn't have to worry if she had heard me last night through the wall. I felt my ears burning at the thought.

Sam sent me a weird glance the moment I stepped into Merlotte's. It looked like he somehow knew more about what had happened last night in Bon Temps.

"What the hell happened to you this time?" he hissed into my ear when he managed to catch me between delivering orders.

He eyed my left arm suspiciously. Oooops. I was doing my best to avoid using that arm, but was it possible he could smell blood? I knew I should have changed the dressing on the wound before heading for work. It was almost healed, but still fresh enough that the tender new skin might have opened again from my clothes rubbing on it as I moved. Sam would be able to figure out that it wasn't just an innocent cut either.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," I said, fully believing my own words.

Sam looked at me hard.

"I swear to God, Sookie, if you got yourself dragged into some vampire shit again…"

"Then what?" I asked a little too loud. "What are you going to do?"

I took a deep breath, in and out. My temper had gotten the better of me. I shouldn't have yelled at him at his bar, but the truth was, there wasn't much Sam could do about this, besides upsetting me with all his talk. Not to mention that last night I had to deal with as much 'were shit' as 'vampire shit' and Sam seemed to conveniently forget that. It wasn't like I was just looking for trouble. Did he really think I didn't know how much danger I had been in?

I put away the tray with dirty dishes making a heroic effort to do it quietly and gently instead of smashing it against the counter like I wanted. I even straightened it so that the tray's edge was parallel to the counter's edge.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That was rude of me. I appreciate that you're worried about me, but it's not like I enjoy the fact that I keep getting hurt so your… um…" I swallowed the first, very impolite phrase that came to my mind, "remarks are not helping. Believe me, I'd rather have nothing to do with assassins for the rest of my life. I don't need you to tell me to steer clear of them."

Sam looked slightly offended, though I hadn't said anything that was untrue.

"Are you well?" he asked finally, choosing to ignore my outburst. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

I smiled weakly.

"No, thanks. I'll be fine."

I was ready to walk away when I remembered something. I hesitated. I knew it would be adding fuel to a fire, but I just couldn't help myself. Curiosity was eating at me.

"Hey, Sam?" I called after him.

"Yeah?"

I leaned over quickly.

"Don't be mad, but how did it happen that you didn't recognise Sweetie any sooner?" I asked in a low voice.

I almost regretted asking, because Sam was clearly very unhappy. I felt a surge of anger mixed with shame from him.

"I had hay fever," he confessed embarrassed.

I wanted to hit my head against the wall.

The evening hours were dragging and my shift seemed to pass slower than normal. We had full house. The town was buzzing with excitement. Everyone wanted to discuss the breaking news that the captured shooter was Sweetie and soothe their nerves over a drink. There was probably also a healthy dose of morbid curiosity in going to the bar where she used to work. I had my hands full and less and less strength to fulfill my duties. As the night progressed, I was starting to regret that I hadn't taken a day off. I had to take a painkiller during my break to dull the growing discomfort.

My shift was finally nearing its end when Pam walked in, dressed in her 'civilian' clothes. I saw her at the bar talking with Sam about something and I realized that with her main task completed and the threat gone, she probably would stop coming to help at Merlotte's. I felt saddened at the thought. Everything seemed to be coming to an end.

I don't know what they discussed, but when they were finished Pam came to me in one of the rare moments when none of my tables needed my attention.

"I knew you were going to come to work tonight," she said shaking her head.

I shrugged. I didn't want to talk more about it, since I was already kicking myself for my decision . I needed money, but maybe not that badly.

"I have something for you from Eric," she announced getting down to business and handed me a big, flat box.

"Oh?" was all I managed to get out in reply.

"I tried to tell him that he should just give you a new one, but he was stubborn about it," she commented rolling her eyes when I carefully took the package, her words giving me an idea of what might be inside.

I opened the box and peeked inside. At first I thought I was looking at an identical copy of my red coat. It looked brand new and knowing the state I had last seen it in, it seemed impossible that even a thorough cleaning and mending could restore it to its previous glory. When I looked closer though, I saw ruby sequins sewn into the fabric of the sleeve exactly at the same place where Charles' fangs had landed when he had bitten me and I realized that I was, indeed, looking at my old coat, painstakingly repaired.

I blinked slowly.

Eric had somehow guessed that it would make me more happy than any other coat, even one in a new fashion.

I stroked the thick fabric.

"It's perfect," I said quietly.

Sometimes our choices and attitudes come from the strangest of places. It's not always spectacular acts and huge declarations that dictate them. Sometimes, when we try to trace back our reasons, we find it's the little, seemingly insignificant things that speak louder, that really make the difference and have the power to influence us and change our mindset.

When I smoothed my hand over the coat and my fingers touched the round nodules of the sequins I felt the peace that had been eluding me since Eric had left my room this morning finally filling me. For the first time I thought maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be all right.

"Give him…" I said and then stopped myself. I chuckled remembering what happened the time I'd asked someone to pass on a similar message to Pam. "Tell Eric that he has a kiss from me waiting for him."

Pam's eyes lit up. She smiled showing me her fangs. She looked so excited with the vast expanse of opportunities this new situation opened for her, that she was ready to let me off the hook for my clumsy attempt to avoid a word-trap.

"A kiss?" she repeated, her face already reflecting all the potential mischief and teasing she was planning in the future.

"Yes," I said feeling a smile stretching my lips, unable and unwilling to stop it. "A kiss."

THE END

Soo... This is (mostly) it. I'm marking this story as complete, but look out for the outtakes and the epilogue. I know most of you wanted to see Sookie remember and all I have to say to that is: you'll have to wait for the epilogue.

Meanwhile, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter and the whole story.

Until next time!