Disclaimer: Must I have this blasted thing on every chapter? *goes back to read by-laws*


Bella's POV, October 2010

It's easier to watch Carlisle leave after his visit today. And it's not because he's taking his six and a half foot tall surprise with him. He steps aside to allow Emmett into the building and I wonder if it's so his son doesn't see 'the tradition'. He looks back to wave at me and I smile and wave back. It's a bit corny, but it is so very Carlisle that I can't help but react.

Dr. Humphries. Even though I am pretty certain that I hate you and think you a slag of the lowest class, I could almost embrace you. I say almost because there are conditions to my release, but I can work with that. In a couple of weeks, I will be officially released from this facility as long as I continue therapy and have a dependable support system. Dr. Humphries suggested a sort of halfway house and I nearly choked on the scoff that erupted from my throat.

My hesitance scratched out the first option and left me with only two. Move in with Carlisle or move in with Uncle Marcus whose primary residence is in Italy. I don't want to return to my mother country and Marcus has been considered a distant relative until recently. One never contacted if not for Carlisle.

At one time, Carlisle theorized that if he found my mother, things would be better. I went from exasperated to infuriated with him, but he was nothing if not dedicated to his cause. I came to accept that Carlisle was very much a family man and believed that family could be medicine in and of itself. And who was I to disagree with him? He was the doctor.

The search eventually led him to her brother, Marcus. When the good doctor looked into Marcus, he inadvertently stirred the pot. Marcus, of course, found out immediately that he was being investigated by an American and used his own means to research Carlisle.

Since then there has been a natural contempt between the two. They try to downplay it for my sake, but it is so searingly obvious. Carlisle's brow furrows whenever I mention Marcus. Marcus' tone transforms from lukewarm to completely frigid when I mention Carlisle. And in the few times they've met in person, the air was so thick with tension, it was difficult scout for the humor. Difficult, but not impossible.

When I think of the two, I often see their heads on gigantic spiders. Carlisle's is brown. Marcus's black. The human-arachnid hybrids are poised on the opposite sides of a silver web, snapping their pincers at each other.

That is imagery that never fails to make me laugh aloud. Nobody takes a second glance at me. Laughing to myself is something I'll have to restrict when I'm back in the outside world. There's no reason to stay in the yard so I make my way to my room.

Oh, to be outside these walls again…

To go to my room without someone sitting at the end of the hall to authorize my entry.

Just because I no longer need to be sedated, it doesn't mean I'm at peace with this place. I hate it. I hate everything it tries to be. I was forced into a roach motel, complete with poison, and they dared to make it bright and happy? For the first few weeks, the pretty nurses and bright décor only served to bring me into a bubbling rage.

I pass into my room and quietly push up the door. I wish I could tape something onto the humongous fucking glass, but I cannot. Things could be worse. I could have a roommate. I shudder to think of the possibilities. I fall haphazardly onto my full-sized bed.

Yes. Things could be worse.

Around the time of my third violent outburst, I had earned myself a place in a solitary quadrant. There was a tiny window through which I never bothered to look. When the locks turned and Marcus walked in with his expensive trademark suit, I was a bit shocked. I shouldn't have been since ultimately it was Marcus who had placed me in Fairmount.

"Nipote."

"Zio."

"I'm here because your doctors are thinking about transferring you to a facility less lenient of your current behavior." Admittedly, that made me nervous, but I said nothing. He unbuttoned his jacket and sat beside me on my cot. "I've known unstable men, nipote. You can see the crazed soul behind their eyes. And when I look into yours, I see sadness. Only sadness. This is why I know I can get you to see reason.

"When you're here, I can oversee. I can pull strings. Get them to allow you privileges in time. But at a government-run institution, I will undoubtedly be less influential. I want this to be as easy as possible for you. So I implore you, ragazza, to behave yourself."

In the long run, Marcus' mild lecture helped. Maybe Carlisle was right about the family thing to a degree. I pulled a one-eighty, needless to say. I smothered my disdain and stewed in my disgust silently.

Though it was months before I made any real progress, I learned that if I gave them an inch, I did indeed get my privileges. Albeit very slowly. First came a private room in the light security wing. Then a laptop. And finally, restricted and supervised internet access. I even have an iTunes account. Not too shabby of a turnaround.

Mostly thanks to Marcus and his string-pulling.

After Dad died, I figured that was it for me in the realm of family, but Marcus hasn't disappointed me. It is endearing to think about all the things he's done for me. I am very grateful to him.

I look up at the sketches on my wall. My legitimate sketches. Not doodles I etched into the paint with a hairpin. I started them at Dr. Humphries' behest. When I confessed that whenever I visualized my father, I could only see him pale and thin on his deathbed, she recommended that I try to pencil him from a happier time. I had no pictures of him. I have no recollection of destroying them, but I must have at some point.

The good memories uncovered themselves little by little and now I have a fairly decent drawing of him. It's simple. A grey profile of his face, but it is my most accurate and so earned the top spot. Most of the pictures are stowed away in my desk, but the best I tape above my bed. Dad is highest and just to the lower right is Carlisle.

I don't make many depictions of Carlisle. I think I see him so often that I don't need a refresher. It's of him sitting in his home office. The place I've seen him at his most peaceful.

Then there's Marcus off to the left in all his kingly glory with his dark hair, piercing eyes, and pricey suit. There's not much to my uncle at first glance, but I'm coming to see the depth. Whether he likes it or not.

A nurse dropped in once and called it my Beautiful Man Shrine. I loath the ingenious title, especially since two of these beautiful men are related to me by blood, but it stuck like a foul smell.

They're my guys. My family. And it is beautiful that I have them given not too long ago, I was utterly alone.

I don't like to think about that time and it is the disassociation with the darkest points of my life that is the reasons why I will have to sit down weekly with a shrink. One of the reasons, I suppose.

The memories are like a caged snarling beast and I'm terrified to go anywhere near it. Not just because of the pain it threatens. I know its claws will rip at my head and my heart. I'm afraid because as hideous as that sinister fiend may be, it is also seductively familiar. It calls to me in my weakest moments with promises and reminders of the not-so-bad times. But it lies. It lies and I can't trust it. I can't if I want to be better. I can't trust it if I want to know what it's like to be free of it one day.

I didn't have any goals when I first attended therapy. That's why it wasn't effective. And hiding my problems was so easy. Not a soul knew who I was before my downward spiral. No one had anything to compare the new me to. What I showed them was all they knew. Everyone assumed I was an introvert. A socially awkward foreigner.

But Carlisle…? He saw something when even I thought there was nothing but a misshapen creature masquerading as my humanity. That man saw through me in a way that twisted my insides. Or maybe he was just the first person to take a real look in ages.

I don't know.

I feel like a selfish leech for having him, but I've long since surrendered to his kindness and faith. There are still moments when I look at him and feel like a charity case. I suspect my pride is to blame, but I remember the way he's never looked at me with pity. Only concern and…other things.

There's another type of disassociation, Bella.

Stow it, Bella.

What I told Emmett was true. The skill Carlisle and I have acquired in avoiding those other things should be awarded some gaudy and golden trinket. Or perhaps a plaque we could hang in the foyer when I move in.

It was rude to leave Emmett alone while I spoke privately with his father, but I didn't care in that moment. I had been planning how to ask Carlisle for days. I called him throughout the week, but it was a conversation I didn't want to have over the phone.

We strolled along the pond after we left Emmett on the gazebo, Carlisle taking the waterfront like a gentleman. Chivalry thrives in the doctor. I'm not sure if that is such a good thing. Dad used to tell me that too much kindness wasn't good for you. Someone will always be waiting to take advantage.

"What would you say to us living together again?" He stopped to face me.

"They're releasing you? When?" I liked to see his face light up like that. When he grinned, his grey-blue eyes shone with childlike giddiness.

"November 14. Providing that I don't live alone and willingly lay out on a doctor's horrendous leather couch periodically to talk about my feelings. Know anyone who would give me a chance?"

"I'm sure Jasper wouldn't mind you becoming his patient again. Does he need to contact Dr. Humphries for your paperwork before they discharge you?" Someone was surely excited, but he wasn't alone. I wanted to take off running myself.

"Probably. I'll find out first thing Monday. If you'll email me his number, I'd like to phone him myself. Do you think that's okay?" One would think after two years, one would know the etiquette for contacting one's psychologist.

"Yes. Of course. I think that it's a good sign. You taking the initiative. It'll show him that you're more receptive to treatment than you were last year." Aww, shucks. Add proud to the giddy smile. I had come a long way since last November. I was too far gone by the time Carlisle convinced me to see Jasper Whitlock. At that point, no one even knew about the drugs. Not certainly.

"So…green light for cohabitation?" I asked anxiously, my hand raising to introduce an embarrassing high-five.

He shook himself out of his minor daze and replied, "Oh! Of course!" Instead of a high-five, he reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly. "Green light," he said gently. I couldn't stop the smile from worming itself across my face. I tried to scale it down when it actually began to hurt my cheeks.

We hugged. We parted. He took his leave. And soon, I will leave with him. I'll never have to look back at this place. November 14th is marked on my calendar as what I hope will be the happiest day of my life.


Translations:

Nipote - niece

Zio - uncle

Ragazza - girl

My English-majored friend shared some constructive criticism this weekend:

"You've given a taste of the present and now you're just going to leave the readers hanging for a dozen chapters just to deliver the back story? People will get bored if you don't get back to the point."

After much deliberation, I agreed with him. I changed the flow and gave you some insight to Bella which was a long time coming in my original outline. Bear with me, please. The facts of the story have not changed and here's the timeline to save any confusion:

May 2008 - Carlisle and Esme announce their divorce; Bella and Edward graduate and break up

July 2008 - Bella leaves Forks

Oct 2008 - Carlisle runs into Bella in Seattle

Nov 2008 thru Nov 2009 - Like I would give this part away…

Dec 2009 - Bella is committed

May 2009 - Emmett marries Rose (in case anyone's curious)

Oct 2010 - Emmett finds out and visits

Thanks for reading and please review with your questions, comments, and concerns!

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