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As always, I wouldn't be able to get these chapters out without LostIn PA. She is amazing.

Here we go!

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Quicksand

"And if they have broken you, you must know you can never go back. I don't care how much you love them or how much you think this time will be different. The fact is they didn't care enough to keep you intact."

JM Storm

BPOV

I'm floating.

"Bella, can you hear me?"

The mask constricts my movement making it difficult to answer, yet somehow, I still feel calm. "Yes."

"Good. I want you to think back, all the way back to your earliest memory. Are you thinking back?"

A vision of a hospital drifts into my mind. "Yes."

"Good. Tell me what you see."

The room is dark, a figure sitting next to me. My body hurts, my arm connected to wires. The only noise is the humming of machines. "A hospital room."

"Are you alone?"

"No."

"Who's with you?"

My eyes feel gritty. "It's hard to concentrate, my head hurts."

"The accident," a voice hints next to me.

"Are you the one in the hospital, Bella?"

"Yes."

"How far back is this?"

The instinctive part of my brain tingles, whispering that I know this memory. That it is safe. Still, the scene feels dreamlike and there is nothing in the room that helps me orient to time. "I don't know."

"Are you an adult?"

I scrutinize my body. "Yes."

"Okay. Take a closer look at the person next to you. Do you recognize them?"

Concentrating, the room becomes lighter. A wave of recognition washes over me as I examine the sleeping form. "Yes. It's Tyler. Tyler is next to me."

"I want you to focus. Try to remember the circumstances around this memory."

Through the swirling fog, I realize that this is when I woke up seven years ago. My first memory after Doc stripped me of my past. Heat floods my body, angry at what was stolen, angry at the lie this moment has become.

"Take a deep breath, Bella. You are safe. You are just an observer."

"I'm safe. I'm just an observer." I repeat, the wave of ire receding.

"Good. Now tell me about the memory."

"It's the first memory I have after I awoke."

"Seven years ago," the voice confirms.

"Yes."

"Is that the earliest memory you have?" There is a challenge in his tone.

"Yes…maybe." Is it my earliest memory?

"What about the last memory we talked about?"

He's right. The colors swirl, throwing me backward. Another familiar scene presents itself. "The bomb."

"Yes. The bomb. Do you remember being there?"

The question is difficult. As before, I recognize the girl, but the memory feels disconnected. It's me, but it doesn't feel like me. "I remember the scene."

"But not being there?"

The memory of the hospital I experienced from the inside, this one I'm observing from the outside. "It doesn't feel real." My clothes become confining as I struggle to take a breath, my skin too hot, my throat too small.

"It's okay. Take a deep breath with me."

Sucking in the cool air helps.

Focus.

Focus.

"Let's try this from another angle. Think about that girl. Look at her. Are you looking at her?"

"Yes."

"Good. Try to think of another memory with her. Can you think of one?"

The room swirls and fades, replaced with a black void and swirling pictures from Laurent's dining room. Pictures of memories I don't remember, but know are mine. "No."

"Focus on her face, on the face of the man in the room with you. You shared many other memories. Try to remember one."

"Ask about the field." A different and terse voice chimes in. "She hated that field. Powerful emotions were usually at the root of her cracks."

The words trigger a recollection, not of a memory, but of a particular photo, the one of me in a field. I despise that picture.

"Tell her why she hated it."

The haunted eyes in the photo distort in size, taunting me, challenging my inability to save them. My body twitches, itching to run. I feel out of control. Vulnerable.

Someone scoots closer. Panicked, my throat constricts further. The warmth around my hand tightens. "It's okay. You're safe." The whispered words penetrate the fog and panic.

"I'm safe."

"We ran drills there," the terse voice sounds closer. "Drills that would make some of our top-ranked agents cringe. We showed no mercy. This team needed to be elite fighters and athletes."

"She hated doing the drills," a new and calm voice clarifies.

"No. She was amazing and showed no mercy in return. She hated what the drills did to her less than stellar classmates."

The muted shades swirl, the photo of Embry and I tugging on my consciousness. Out of the fog, a field emerges, not through the frame of a photo, but under my feet. I can smell the freshly cut grass and dusty gravel. An overwhelming wave of emotion crashes over me. Evil happened here.

"You hated when they got hurt, especially Embry. Do you remember, Bella? Do you remember how he used to cry and the consequence he would receive for his weakness?"

The hardened voice tugs on my awareness, rage igniting as the scene changes. A boy is on the ground in front of me sobbing as a man stands over him, his finger pointing in judgment. The individuals are blurry, fractured, but my emotions are not. I hate him.

"They treated us like we were nothing." The words escape unexpectedly.

"Tell me what you see."

"The field. A man, berating a boy. Hurting him." My teeth grind. "I hate it."

"It's working."

"Keep her focused, Carlisle," the terse voice hisses.

"Right." A throat clears. "I want you to stay with that feeling, Bella. Do you recognize the people?"

The boy is from the photo. "It's Embry. He's hurting Embry."

"Who's hurting Embry?"

The face shrouded in shadows, is unfamiliar. "I don't know."

"Is it Doc or Charlie?" The calm voice asks.

"I was never the disciplinarian."

"Shut-up," the person snarls next to me. "Let her answer."

I search the face but unlike others, it doesn't trigger any recollection. "No. I don't recognize him."

"Who was it?" The voice next to me asks harshly. I don't understand why. I already answered.

"It's hard to know." The terse man responds. "We had several drill officers to help train them. My guess is it's one of those officers."

"Who are they?" The warmth around my hand tightens, almost painfully.

"They are irrelevant, not anyone of importance."

"Except to the ones they hurt," the calm voice scoffs in return.

"Let's focus on the task at hand, which is recovering her memories." The terse voice fires back. "The details can be dealt with later."

"Then use the script and get on with it." The voice next to me rebukes the pressure on my hand releasing. "Isn't that the fucking point of this session?"

"We will, but the more memories we can push her to remember on her own, the easier it will be to unlock the tougher ones."

Their chatter is confusing. It's hard to focus, the ground beneath me shifting. My grasp of the memory starts to unravel, an internal voice telling me that I need to let go and forget. I try to counter it, innately knowing that this is important. The past it the past. The harder I try to hold on, the more slippery it becomes.

I should stop.

"Charlie's right we need to focus."

I need to stop.

"Okay, Bella, you're doing great but now I want you to go deeper. I want you to search for a new memory. Can you do that?"

"I'll try." The blackness whirls as a familiar ache intensifies. I push harder, refusing to let the pain stop me. "It's hard to see." Muted colors wafted around within the blackness. My stomach roils, my heart pounding a million miles a minute, as the words "the past is the past" pound against my skull.

I can't do this.

"Can you still see the girl?"

In the midst of the encroaching shadows, I can still see her face, sad and determined. "Yes."

"Good. Search for another memory with her."

Her face disappears once again tossing me into blackness. "There is nothing."

"Ask about something specific. That worked better," the calm voice interrupts.

Papers shuffle. "These papers don't have that type of detail. Charlie?"

"Bella," the terse voice utters. "Do you remember project graduation?"

The words dig into my consciousness. They are important, but I don't know why. "I'm not sure."

"There is something there, keep going."

"You overheard a conversation about the plans for your team. That's how you thought of them, as your team. You learned some would be sacrificed, challenged beyond their capabilities."

"My team." Familiar faces spin around me.

"It was the final test. Those that passed would stay, those that failed…well, they wouldn't."

Voices from the past consume me.

You used and abused us for what? For nothing! What was the fucking point, Charlie?

I can't catch my breath.

"You are safe, Bella. Just an observer."

"Observer," I repeat, the words thick in my throat.

"That's when you decided to end it. You were determined to save them."

"Save them." The pulsating ache intensifies, the raging emotions ripping apart my ribcage.

We need to get out, Liam.

I can't breathe.

We're the strongest. It's up to you and me.

I can't breathe.

How the fuck are we going to do that?

I can't breathe.

We use everything we learned against them.

"Pull her out!" The voice beside me shouts.

My hand claws at my throat. Another hand tries to stop me.

"I told you this wouldn't be easy, Son."

My strength shatters. "It hurts." I want to rub the pain away, but the warmth encasing my hand stops me.

"It's time for that code." The calm voice sounds far away.

"That's what I'm getting." The sounds of paper flipping drill into my skull.

I have work to do. I don't have time for the past. "Stop." Ripping my hand back, I pull off the mask suffocating me.

"Don't listen to her. She's tough, she'll be fine."

"You stand there as if this is nothing. Look at her! You call this love? Fuck you!"

"Edward, that isn't helping."

"And neither is he. Don't you know the code? Stop standing there and do something."

The past is the past. My head is cracking open. "Please stop."

"I don't know the release code, not really."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"This type of conditioning isn't a quick process. It takes weeks. I didn't stay for all of it, especially…especially…"

"The pain control. You left during the worst parts." Even the calm voice grates against my skull.

"Yes."

Their incessant talking only adds to the pounding. I can't make it stop. I have to make it stop. "The past is the past."

"No, Bella." The calm voice intervenes suddenly closer. "It's not. The past is a part of you and you deserve to know it. Keep breathing. We're going to help you."

"Find the code, Carlisle."

"I've got it, just double checking the sequence."

"Bella, I want you to listen to my voice. Listen to my words."

The past is the past. "Words. Listen to the words."

"Take a deep breath and repeat the words I am safe."

"I am safe." The words bounce off my pounding heart.

"Take a deep breath and repeat the words pain is my friend."

Inhaling, my chest starts to loosen. "Pain is my friend."

"Take a deep breath and repeat the words the pain cannot hurt me."

Cold air fills my lungs, the agony subsiding. "The pain cannot hurt me."

"Hear my words. Cum vi doloris est."

The world stills.

"Repeat them. Cum vi doloris est."

"Cum vi doloris est." With pain comes strength. The fire within my body suddenly stops. "Cum vi doloris est."

"Good. Tell me how you feel."

The experience is surreal. It's akin to leaving a booming and chaotic club only to walk into silence. The abrupt absence of pain is almost confusing, but still a lifesaving reprieve. "I feel better."

"Good." Fingers grasp my wrist. "Her pulse is slowing."

"It worked," the voice beside me breathes.

"It did." The fingers let go as the mask is secured once more. Remarkably, it doesn't aggravate me. "Now, let's focus on your past. I want to help you remember. Do you want to remember, Bella?"

Relief. I feel relief, a foreign sensation. "Yes."

"Excellent." The voice pauses as pages rustle. "She's ready. Okay, Bella, hear my words. Praeterita liberabit vos."

The words are familiar, my brain lighting in recognition.

"I want you to repeat them. Praeterita liberabit vos."

"Praeterita liberabit vos." The past will set you free. Vivid colors permeate the fog, pushing the blackness away.

"Now I want you to repeat, Veritas vos liberabit."

"Veritas vos liberabit." The truth will set you free.

"Bella, what do you see?"

I'm drifting, images suspended all around me, blurred faces becoming familiar ones. Pictures from a past forgotten.

"I want to introduce you to someone, Bella. His name is Doc."

"No, Bella." Charlie looks upset. "You can't call me Uncle Charlie anymore."

Doc stands with a stopwatch in his hand. "She's amazing, Charlie. Truly one of kind."

I wonder why putting a puzzle together is so important.

"Then she's in?"

"Yes."

Embry's young face stares at me with nervous eyes as Charlie stands next to him. "Bella, I want you to meet your newest classmate."

Emmett/Liam holds his hand out to me after watching me complete the toughest obstacle course. "You're tougher than you look."

Angela/Lauren and I giggle in the darkness, telling secrets as Leah/Emily stands in the corner frowning. She's never friendly. She'd better not tell.

"Hi, my name's Edward."

I've never met anyone who's not a classmate before. "My name's Bella."

"Want to play hide and go seek?" Edward's eyes remind me of the forest. I have a picture of my mom in a forest. Looking at them makes me happy.

"What's hide and go seek?"

He laughs. It warms my belly. "Silly, Mira. It's where someone hides and someone finds them."

"Oh." I'm good at hiding, number one in my class. Smiling, I push his shoulder. "You'll never find me!"

"Want to bet? I'll find you every time." He smiles back challenging me.

He always found me.

"Why doesn't Edward visit anymore?" Charlie moves around his office trying to ignore me. "I want to see Edward."

Throwing down his papers, Charlie turns with angry eyes. "Well, we don't always get what we want, Bella. Edward's not coming back so deal with it."

"But—"

"No buts!" He pushes me towards the door. "Get back to class."

"They are stripping our funding unless we can prove the program a success."

"They're not ready, Doc."

"Bella is. She can lead the team."

"Fine, she's ready and a few others, but not all of them. They aren't all successes."

Doc strokes his chin. "Then we weed them out."

"What?"

"Think about it Charlie, it's a win-win. We thin out the herd to make it stronger, also decreasing our costs."

"I don't know."

"This program is my life's work. I refuse to lose it."

Bastards! My blood boils. They think of us as property. To hell with them. We will show them how good we are and bury them in the process.

"Bella, calm down." I can't move. "She's going to pull out the hose."

"Her heart rate is back up."

"She's had enough. Pull her out. Now!"

"Bella we're going to count backward. Can you count with me?"

Fury fuels my veins. They need to pay.

"Bella! Focus on my voice. Count with me. Ten."

The voice, I'm supposed to follow the voice. "Ten."

"Nine." Anger gives way to understanding.

"Eight." For once, I don't feel lost.

"Seven." Pieces slowly fall into place.

"Six." The void that's been my companion for seven years starts disappearing.

"Five." I feel sharp, my senses heightened, years of training no longer buried in unconscious instinct.

"Four." Flipping through the pages of my past, the puzzle becomes clear.

"Three." The past will set me free.

"Two." The truth will set me free.

"One." I feel complete.

"Bella, are you back with us?" Carlisle asks. Blinking, I find him leaning in watching me closely.

"Bella," Turning I look into Edward's eyes, a familiar warmth fills me. They still remind me of a forest. "What did you remember?"

Sitting up, I pull the mask off, staring at the stunned faces around me. "Everything."

Up next, there is no stopping her now.