Author's Notes: This is a dark, heavy story. It gets ugly. I'm not promising any storybook endings. If you want happy fluff, read Finding Rose.

Characters aren't mine, but the story very much is.


I opened my eyes and saw a white ceiling and blurry fluorescent lights. My vision was clouded, I had a pounding headache, and it felt like the room was spinning. My stomach lurched, so I tried to sit up, but my arms were bound to the bed. I turned my head, narrowly avoiding the unpleasant experience of vomiting on myself. I choked and sputtered on the black contents of my stomach, unable to comprehend the cause of the unusual color. My eyes watered from the force of my upchucking, but I couldn't wipe them. I started jerking my arms against the restraints, trying to get the attention of my captors. I tried yelling but my voice only came out as a mewl. My throat was on fire and my breathing was ragged. Finally, I could hear someone coming.

"Pipe down. You're only going to make things worse by fighting." The man sounded stern, and he definitely had an advantage over me, so I stop flailing. I heard an intercom click.

"Clean up in room 213, please."

I still couldn't see who this man was. I struggled to wipe my eyes on my shoulder, on anything, to lift the blindness. The man must have seen my futile attempts; he took a washcloth and started cleaning my face. I was grateful for this simple comfort. I couldn't remember the last time someone had taken care of me. Then again, I couldn't remember much at all, just pain, then darkness.

"Do you remember what happened?" The man had finished cleaning me off and I got a good look at his face. Honey-gold hair, mid forties, blue eyes, handsome but nothing to write home about.

My throat was still too sore to answer his question, so I shook my head slowly. The room was still spinning and my brain threatened to push my eyes out of their sockets. I wanted to take a drill to my skull to relieve the pressure, but I doubted this guy would lend me one.

"Well, Ms. Swan, you're in The Pavilion in Seattle and I'm your doctor, Carlisle Cullen. You were airlifted here from your house in Forks, where your father found you, lying on the floor of the bathroom. Do you remember how many pills you took?" I shook my head again. "Your dad said you just refilled your Xanax, so you had sixty pills in there, and on top of that, you downed a bottle of codeine cough syrup. Honestly, I have no idea how you survived. They pumped your stomach during the flight and pushed charcoal, but you were clinically dead twice before arriving at the hospital. You stayed in the hospital for 24 hours, then you came here." As he spoke, the memories started coming back to me. I wasn't ready to deal with them yet, so I blocked it all out.

I tried to ask him where my father was, but I just rasped for breath instead. Dr. Cullen patted my arm reassuringly.

"Just try to rest. I'll get you a pad of paper and a marker. You won't be able to talk well for a day or two, but that's part of dying I guess. Coming back to life is a bitch!" He chuckled as he left the room. I kind of dug his sick sense of humor; I've never known a psych doc to be so loose around patients before.

Some poor schmuck came in with a mop and bucket came in to clean up the sick on the floor. I blushed, embarrassed that this guy had to deal with my mess. That was the biggest reason I chose pills instead of one of the dozens of guns I had access to; I didn't want anyone to have to deal with any more than they absolutely had to. I kicked myself for not going out back in the woods where I wouldn't be found so quickly. Dad wasn't supposed to be back for hours though, so there was no way to foresee him finding me like that. I knew I had to apologize to him. He was probably scared out of his mind the past few days, and it was all my fault. Such a fuck up.

Dr. Cullen came back with the paper as promised, but had a crayon instead of a pen or pencil.

"Here you go, hon. Now we can talk. Kind of." He unstrapped my arms so I could move freely. I took the crayon and started writing furiously.

Where's my dad? Why the crayon? Those were my two most pressing questions.

"Your dad is staying in a hotel up the road from here." The second question made him laugh. "I gave you a crayon because suicide watch patients aren't allowed to have pointed objects. I couldn't find a marker, but the crayons were out." I scribbled out more questions.

When can I leave? Do I get a shower?

"You won't be leaving for quite a while, Ms. Swan. Even though you're over the age of 18, your father is your next of kin, and he has essentially committed you until we can get you to a good place again, mentally and emotionally. Once we do that, we'll unleash you on the unsuspecting public again." I laughed, making a noise that sounded like a dying seal. I don't know why it was so funny, but hey, I'm locked up in a looney bin. I may as well act looney.

"All right, calm down. I'm going to send a nurse in to help you shower. Once you're done with that, we'll see about getting you some food, kiddo." He patted my head. I gave him a half smile and wrote Thanks on the notepad. He left me there, alone with my thoughts. Definitely the most scary place to be given the current circumstances.

I thought about the past few weeks, the days, I suppose I could say, leading to my death.

Two weeks prior, I quit my job as a paralegal, and left school and my long time boy friend. I couldn't handle the pressures of life, even with all the medication my doc put me on, so I dropped all of it so I could regroup. I came back to Forks to stay with my dad; he always had a place for me. I wandered around town for a few days. I took in the new things, like the mainstream pharmacy they built across the street from the now-closed mom and pop one that had been around as long as anyone could remember. Other than that, the town seemed frozen in time.

I had taken a side street that I usually avoided when I was younger and found the only bar in Forks. I hadn't been old enough to drink when I left town, not that it stopped me from partaking at the occasional party, so I'd never seen the inside. I let my curiosity take the lead. It wasn't anything special, but I had a few guys buy me drinks. I came back the next night. And the night after that. And the one after that. I had never been much of a drinker, but I started knocking them back, anything anyone would buy me. More than once, I ended up at someone's house, completely tanked. When I woke up, I'd be dazed and hung over, so I would go home and take a couple Xanax to take the edge off. By the time those wore off, it would be time to go drinking with my "friends" again. What a way to live.

I couldn't quite pin down the last however many days though. Three? Whatever. I closed my eyes and waited for the nurse. Not much later, I heard footsteps in the room, so I peeked open one eye. A woman with light brown hair and a nurse's uniform on was bustling around the room. Good. It was time for my shower. I felt sweaty and dirty; I needed to rinse off if nothing else. The woman came over and gently rubbed my shoulder. I opened my eyes and smiled at her.

"Hi, sweetie. My name is Esme, I'm your nurse for today. Let's get you up, okay?" She removed the IV I didn't even notice I had. "There. Now slowly sit up." I did as I was told. She grabbed a plastic basin, just in case. Helping me to my feet, she supported my weight as we trudged to the bathroom. For such a tiny woman, she was surprisingly strong. I leaned against the sink, my legs threatening to give out on me, while Esme started the shower water for me by pushing a button. She removed my gown for me and I felt horribly exposed.

"Get used to it, honey. There's no such thing as privacy here." She smiled sympathetically. I sat down on the shower seat. The water suddenly shut off. I looked to Esme for an answer.

"It's so you don't drown in the shower if you pass out from medication or choking yourself. And the button is so you don't try to scald yourself. Safety first."

Who the hell would try to do that, I thought. Oh yeah. Me.

I was able to soap myself down pretty well and rinsed off by holding onto the chair. I skipped washing my hair because I didn't think I could do it in the three minutes the water stayed on. Even still, the few minutes the water was on was enough to revitalize my body. By the time I was done, I didn't feel nearly as weak. Esme wrapped a small towel around me as I stepped out of the stall. She had put some clothes out for me, and I put them on before I froze to death. That thought made me snort.

I tried to tie the drawstring to my pants but it was missing. I rolled my eyes. Yes, wouldn't want people to hang themselves with their drawstrings. Esme shrugged.

"Sorry. That's just what happens when you try to off yourself. We try to make sure it doesn't happen again. Call it a weakness, but around here, we think people are pretty important." I couldn't help but smile. For a looney bin, this place was shaping up to be pretty cool. I had a lot of preconceptions of what the insides of a mental hospital would look like, but this wasn't one of them. The hospital bed fit with what I expected, yes, but the beautiful wooden desk at the end of the bed didn't. The walls with their light blue paint and white chair rail, the windows with a beautiful view of a courtyard, and the bathroom with the open stall and bowl sink were all quite out of the ordinary, at least from my limited knowledge of these places. If you ignored the fact that the windows had mesh in them and the whole push button shower thing, you could pretend it was a really weird hotel.

"Come on, get your slippers on, it's time to go talk to the doctors." She pointed to a pair of socks with non-skid rubber dots on the bottoms. Are you fucking kidding me? My thoughts must have displayed on my face. "I'm not joking. Put them on." I sat on the edge of the bed and slid the socks on my feet. They were actually quite soft, so I couldn't complain. Esme led me into the hallway. A burgundy carpet covered the floor and the walls were cream. There were doors every twenty feet or so, all opened and the rooms empty. Every bed was neatly made, but mine was the only hospital bed. I thought that was kind of weird before I remembered that I was passed out for days on end.

At the end of the hall was a wooden door with a big square window and cheap blinds. It looked out of place in the otherwise upscale unit. Esme opened the door for me. Dr. Cullen was sitting in an armless chair with two people I didn't recognize, and my father. Their conversation stopped when I entered, and Dr. Cullen stood, leading me to an empty chair between my dad and the blond woman in the lab coat. She smiled at me but I was uncomfortable in her presence; I had always been intimidated by other females near my age. She handed me a marker and pad of paper and I scowled at them. In a room full of doctors, I couldn't believe they didn't trust me with a pen. I immediately started doodling while Dr. Cullen was talking. He introduced the woman as Dr. Tanya Denali, a psychologist, and the man as Aro Volturi, the psychiatrist. I nodded at them politely and continued doodling. I noticed that Tanya kept glancing over at what I was drawing, then making notes in the notepad she had on her lap. I flipped my paper to the next page and paid attention to what Dr. Cullen was saying.

"Now that you're here, Isabella, we're going to expect certain things from you. We have a list of rules you'll have to follow to show that you're ready to function on your own again. You'll have individual and group therapy every day that you'll be expected to attend. We have special activities that earn you extra points if you choose to participate. Aro will help you find the right medication, and Tanya will listen to anything you have to say. Or write."

I wrote my question.

How long do I have to stay?

"You stay until the three of us think you're ready. Not cured, but no longer a threat to yourself."

I sighed. That wasn't an answer.

I'm not a threat to myself anymore. It was stupid. I'm sorry. It was worth a shot.

Dr. Cullen laughed. "Nice try, kiddo, but you have to stay for at least 48 more hours. That's just part of it." It wasn't worth the shot after all.

My mind wandered while the docs talked to my father, going over policies and things I didn't give a shit about. My main concern was getting the hell out of there as soon as humanly possible. If it meant swallowing all the pills they wanted to give me and going to every minute of the pointless therapy sessions, I'd do it.

The powwow ended, everyone smiling and optimistic about my recovery. I smiled and nodded. That seemed to be the right thing to do, because my dad gave me a huge hug and told me he loved me, something completely out of character for him. Our relationship was more of the non-verbal type. I knew what he meant most of the time, and he was completely oblivious to me. It worked. So for him to actually touch me... Bizarre.

We all walked down to a large room where other people, Crazies?, were congregated. Esme pulled out a chair so I curled up in it. My father waved to me as he walked with Dr. Cullen and down the hall. I sighed, then took a look at the people around me. To my left was a small girl, maybe 19, with spiky pink hair and a wide smile. Cute, but a tad creepy. Next to her was a monstrous man who was both intimidating and incredibly hot, with his soft brown curls and broad shoulders. He looked like the American dream man His feet were propped up on the coffee table that was in the middle of the small circle of chairs, and he was talking to the blonde to my right. She was stunning, perfectly proportioned and and It Girl. I looked up at her and she raised an eyebrow at me, not missing a beat in her conversation with Captain America. I hugged my knees tighter, looking away. My eyes traveled directly across the room.

Oh. My. God.

The most gorgeous man I had ever seen sat in a folding chair, arms crossed, and looking pissed and absolutely fuckable. He wore a long sleeved black shirt and pajama pants with Elmo printed all over them in various poses. I smiled at the odd contradiction between pants and attitude. Looking back to his face, I saw that he was staring at me, brow furrowed, almost like he was analyzing me. When our eyes met, he gave me a crooked little half smile, his green eyes smoldering. He was absolutely perfect. So what the hell is he doing here? I hoped my voice would come back quickly. I couldn't stand not knowing who these people were, especially Mr. Smokey Eyes. He leaned over, uncrossing his arms and putting his elbows on his knees. He was just about to ask me something when Dr. Denali came in, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry I'm running behind, everyone! It's very rude of me to disrespect your time that way." She seemed truly apologetic.

"It's all good, baby," Captain America said. He smiled broadly at her. Crazy House Barbie glared at him, jealous of the attention he gave the doctor.

"Thank you, deary." Dr. Denali sat in the biggest chair and put her papers on the coffee table, pushing Emmett's feet out of her way. "We have a new person with us today, so why don't we go around the circle and introduce ourselves." The room grumbled with the exception of Pinkerbelle; she was about to fly out of her chair with excitement at any minute. That girl is wound too tight.

"I'll go first!" As I thought, Pinkerbelle hopped up and volunteered. "My name is Alice, I'm 22, and I have ADD and have episodes of severe mania. Like now, which is why I'm here." She grinned, bowed, and sat back down, bouncing her leg to a beat in her head. Dr. Denali signed for Captain America to go.

"My name is Emmett. I'm 26, and I'm here for 'anger management issues'." He used air quotes and rolled his eyes.

"Emmett, you had a psychotic break and beat the shit out of a guy because you thought he hit his girlfriend." Dr. Denali was not impressed with his translation of events. Emmett threw his hands in the air dramatically, causing everyone in the group to chuckle. Now it was Mr. Hotty's turn.

"I'm Edward. I'm 24 and bipolar. I'm here because my father is worried about me." His frown was back. The way his nose crinkled was adorable. He looked over at Dr. Denali and rolled his eyes when he saw she was taking notes.

Crazy House Barbie took her turn.

"I'm Rosalie. I'm 25 and here for post traumatic stress disorder." That came as a surprise to me. She certainly didn't look like the type of person to take anything from anyone. I wondered what skeletons hid in her closet.

"Isabella, do you want me to introduce you?" Dr. Denali asked. I wrote what I wanted her to say and handed it to her. She looked at it and then back to me. "Really? Really?" I blinked at her innocently. "Okay then. 'My name is Bella and I don't know why I'm here.' You're not getting off to a very good start here, Bella. I'll give you a pass though since this is our first session."

"Where did Jasper go, Tanya?" Alice asked.

"He had another setback so he chose to stay in his room this afternoon. Shall we begin?"

She asked how everyone was feeling. Alice felt her medication was starting to kick in because she was toning down. I found that hard to believe. Rosalie said that her nightmares were getting worse; Tanya told her that she would talk to Aro about getting her a sleeping pill. Emmett confessed to feeling great. He said he felt kind of bad for everything that happened, but he would feel worse if it was really a case of abuse and he had done nothing. Rose looked at him adoringly. It was sweet, and reminded me of the way I used to look at Jacob.

Jacob!

I was slumped next to a toilet, head resting on the bowl. Orange light shone through the small rectangle above the shower stall; it was early in the day. Or night. I wasn't quite sure anymore. Someone knocked on the door. I mumbled something as I shakily got to my feet. The knocking came again. I stood over the sink and splashed water on my face. I looked up at the mirror and didn't recognize the face that stared back at me. The eyes were blood-shot, lids heavy and black. Skin hung onto the hollow cheekbones. The hair was greasy and unkempt. This couldn't be me. I cupped some water and put it in my mouth, swishing it around to get the taste of sick out. I spat the water back into the sink. I stumbled to the door. It was then that I realized that I didn't know where I was. It didn't really surprise me; I had been doing that a lot lately. I yanked the door open to find that the person banging on it was Jacob.

"Jesus, Jake, what the hell are you doing here?" I tried to get past him but he put his arms on both sides of the door, blocking my way.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Bells. Did you drive here?" He was pissed. I took a closer look at my surroundings and it clicked. I was back home. Well, it wasn't home anymore. It was Jake's now. I left him with everything when I went back to Forks, including the ridiculous rent payment.

"It doesn't matter. Just let me go home. I won't bother you again."

"What's wrong with you, Bella? What happened? You've lost it."

"Nothing's wrong. I've just been hanging out. Mind your own business and let me go. I'm not your fucking child."

"Have you seen yourself Bella? Really looked at yourself? You look like shit! It's amazing how fast you've destroyed yourself."

"Leave me alone!" I shoved him as hard as I could, but I was weak and hung over, so all I did was fall against him. He wrapped his arms around me and held me to his chest. I resisted, but only for a moment. He ran his hand over my hair, shushing me. I gave in and cried into his chest. He scooped me up and carried me to our, no, his bed, laying me down gently. He stripped me down to my panties and slid the covers over me. Climbing into the bed behind me, he put his arm on mine. I pulled him closer, and he cradled me all night. I woke up often; nightmares plagued me. Every time I moved, he moved with me, whispering to me, calming me back to sleep.

Morning came quickly. The sun shone through the thin blinds above the bed and made me squint. Jacob was still snoring beside me, so I turned and snuggled into him. I was glad he made me stay overnight; I missed him. I traced the tattoo on his arm, a wolf totem. I had a matching one on my shoulder. It was an impulsive decision on my part, but I knew I would be with him forever. I sighed, reflecting on my naivety. My sigh was louder than I thought. Jacob stirred and opened his eyes. When he saw that I was still there, a smile spread across his face. He reached up and touched my face, running his thumb down my cheek. I ran my hand down his arm and held his hand against my cheek. The whole world seemed perfect; nothing could ruin that moment. I closed my eyes, taking everything in. The smell of the fresh sheets, the rough skin of his palm, the sound of our breathing getting heavier as it always did when we were this close, the hardness of his chest against my soft breasts...My hormones got the better of me. I hooked my leg over his, pulling our hips together. I felt his morning wood press against me, so I slowly moved along his length. Jacob groaned and buried his face in my neck, kissing his way up to just behind my ear. Once was there, he bit down, hard. Someone growled; I didn't know if it was me or him. Our hand roamed each others bodies as though it had been two years since we had been together, not just two weeks. I dug my nails into his back as he bit his way down my neck and body. His tongue flicked my already hardened nipples before he took them in his mouth one at a time. I arched my back, urging him to continue his journey. He looked up at me and gave my nip one last tug with his teeth, causing me to moan. Trailing kisses to my belly button, he paused to smile when he saw that I still had in the belly ring with a "J" hanging from it. He kissed it reverently. Moving on, he pulled at my panties, so I lifted my hips off the bed. He stripped off his boxers and knelt between my legs. My body ached with need, both physical and emotional, and I could only get release from the copper skinned god that hovered over me, waiting for my permission before he entered.

"I want you."

He thrust into me, his girth stretching me to the edge of pain and pleasure. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his back, letting him penetrate deeper. He grunted his appreciation and I felt myself start to lose control. I needed him faster, harder, so I moaned my commands. He sat up on his knees, put my feet on his shoulders, and began to piston in and out of me as hard as he could. The pressure built up quickly at my core and I felt my body tense, gripping Jacob inside me. My eyes rolled back and I lost myself to my orgasm. Jacob grinned as he always did when I got mine, then slowed his pace so he could lay on top of me again. He put his weight on his elbows and kissed everything he could reach. His lips were soft and his kisses light while he made love to me. I breathed slowly, deeply, and felt another explosion building. Jacob began to twitch and jerk inside me, and I spurred him on so I could reach my second climax. He slid an arm under me to grip me tighter. With his mouth by my ear, we exploded together. As we came down from our endorphin high, he whispered to me.

"I love you, Bella. Always."

"Jake. I love you too." It wasn't a lie. I loved him with every fiber of my being.

"Stay with me. In our house."

"No, Jake. I can't. I need to go home. Please take me home."

"Fine. Get dressed."

I fingered the smelly, stained clothes he took off of me the night before and frowned. Without saying a word, Jacob pointed to the bottom drawer of the dresser we used to share. I pulled it open and saw it was full of my things that were left behind. I grabbed fresh clothes and went to the bathroom to clean up. When I was somewhat presentable, I gathered my things and walked into the kitchen. Jacob was sitting at the counter with his head in his hands. I felt a pang of guilt. I walked over and tried to wrap my arms around him but he pushed me away.

"Let's go." His eyes were pained and his voice was cold. The lack of emotion in his words hurt more than anything. This wasn't my Jake. I destroyed my Jake. This Jake didn't love me; he just wanted me gone.

We made it to his car and he helped me in. I curled up in my seat, silent tears running down my cheeks. Jake sat in the driver's seat and slammed the door, making me jump. He didn't even turn his head to check on me. After starting the car, he buckled his seat belt.

"Put on your seat belt, Bella." His tone was sharp. Instead of doing as I was asked, I turned to look out the window.

"Bella. Put on. Your seat belt," he said through gritted teeth. I ignored him.

"Put on the god damned seat belt, Bella!" he shouted. Unable to hold back, I started crying harder, louder. Never in our relationship had he ever yelled at me. Jake reached across me, yanked the belt from above my shoulder, and slammed it into place. This wasn't my Jake.

I ruined everything.

I fell asleep on the way home. Jake slammed the car into park and shut off the engine. I was glad to see that Charlie's car was gone; he was the last person I wanted to talk to on my long-distance walk of shame. He had been vocal in his feelings about my sudden interest in drinking myself sick, but he was powerless until I broke a law. So he sat and waited, watching me spiral down into this...person I had become.

Jake opened my door and walked me inside.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Just my truck," I said quietly.

"Fine. I'll have someone drop it off later."

"I love you, Jake."

"No, Bella. You can't love me right now. You don't even love yourself." He turned and walked out the door.

I dropped to the floor and started sobbing. My chest felt like it was going to explode from the pressure that had built up in it. I crawled up the stairs and to the bathroom. The anxiety medication the doctor in Seattle had given me was on the sink. I grabbed the bottle and searched for something to wash it down with. My cough syrup from the cold I had the previous month was under the sink.

In one mighty swallow, I downed every pill in that bottle. The cough syrup tasted good, so I took the rest of that too. I sat back and waited for the pain to stop. My mind began swirling with memories. The first time Jake kissed me, our camping trip in the mountains that nearly froze us to death, the time we ran off to Vancouver for a three day weekend when we were still in high school...

I heard my dad's voice.

"Jesus, Bella, what have you done? Jake, call an ambulance!"

Red lights flashed overhead, and someone dug knuckles into my chest.

"She's unresponsive. Get a lift, she's going to Seattle."

"Bells, I'm so sorry." Jake spoke softly. "I'll never leave you alone again. Please just wake up."

I suddenly burst into tears and started sobbing. They all stopped talking and stared at me. Rose slowly handed me a box of tissues and I accepted them, wiping the black-tinged snot from my nose. Alice reached over and rubbed my back gently. After I had gone through half a box of tissues, I was able to stop the tears. Emmett brought over a small trashcan and I dumped everything from my lap into it. I looked up to see Edward staring at me, looking concerned. I blushed as I realized that the entire therapy session had been stopped because of my emotional outburst, putting me in the spotlight..

"I think that's enough for today," Tanya announced. "Alice, Rose, will you two stay with Bella while I go grab some paperwork?"

"Of course!" Alice accepted her position as baby-sitter readily.

The men left the room, mumbling about getting snacks and coloring. Edward gave me one last concerned look before following the others out. A spark lit in me. It was something new; something I hadn't felt in a long time.

I was suddenly very glad I was stuck in here for the next 48 hours.


Sorry, my fellow Jake lovers; he absolutely got the shaft. Poor Jake.

Review me! Thanks!