What Speaks in Darkness Chapter 8: Undeniable, a twilight fanfic

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~x~

Chapter 7

The crashing sound of thunder pulled me from sleep, and although I knew it had been too short, it was completely restful and surprisingly rejuvenating. I didn't dream of him again, but somehow, his fragrance still lingered. And I could almost swear that I'd heard his voice while I slept. Was that shit even possible?

No.

I was just fucking crazy.

I moved and stretched, feeling the pull of my muscles from my shoulders to my legs before relaxing again completely. My eyes opened, and the gentle cover of darkness surrounded me. The lulling sound of the rain that still poured outside my window assuaged my mind and body with a pleading whisper that beckoned me to return to sleep.

But I couldn't.

I was warm inside the blanketed space. Naked and calm and entirely relaxed. The day had been long and draining, both physically and emotionally. And I thought back over the events, ticking them off one at a time in my hazy mind, happy for once that in the quiet state of my mind, I was unable to obsess. I simply didn't have the desire.

I thought about Jacob, wondering if he was okay, wondering if he would show up at the bar tonight to see me. We had never gone any extended length of time without speaking. But the morning had been so painful…for both of us. And I wondered if this time wouldn't be different. A deep and sinking feeling of loss filled my chest at the thought of my very best friend feeling too hurt to talk to me. But it had been for the best, I hoped. He needed to move on. I would never be what he needed me to be; I simply wasn't that woman.

Pulling back the quilt, I sat up and slid from the bed. I felt an eerie pressure, a gentle and lurking paranoia of someone's eyes on me. It was almost as if I could feel their weight against my naked skin. Shaking my head and ignoring the soft shudder that ran through my body, I dressed quickly and quietly in the dark. Sitting back on the bed, I pulled on my boots and reached for my phone that was bound to alarm at any moment. I considered sending Jake a text, but decided against it. It would have been more for me than him anyway.

As I looked at the illuminated screen of my phone, a shadow in the corner caught my eye.

Someone was there.

Someone was there in my house, in my room…watching me in the dark. My heart was pounding in my chest as my breathing had all but stopped. In that moment, terrified and shaking, I tried to decide what to do. A wave of nausea engulfed me as I remembered being naked in my bed – naked out of my bed and dressing in front of him. A pulsing and pressing, electric charge swirled around me and even in my panicked state; I could only focus on one thing.

Self-preservation.

I would run.

"Bella," a trembling, familiar voice spoke my name softly. "Please, Bella…please, don't be afraid."

At that moment, lightning struck, irradiating the obscure figure in the darkened corner. It was only a second, just the merest hint of a moment…but I saw him. Long and lean and pale…as perfect as my memory and wholly and utterly terrifying.

"You're not real," I whispered, frightened tears filling my voice. "You're not…you…you can't be."

"Wha-what?" he choked out, his voice anguished and broken. "You…you think…you didn't…"

I closed my eyes, praying that this was all a dream – that this – that he, the man, the ghost was still just a figment of my imagination.

That had to be it.

He wasn't real.

He couldn't be real.

My eyes were shut so tight that it became painful and I could see a piercing, silver light behind them. I could feel my body shaking and with no ability to stop them on my own, the sound of my sobs filled the otherwise quiet space. Under the intense pressure of my lids, the silver light slowly shifted, morphing into diminishing orbs, first to gold and then to red.

Red like wine.

Red like blood.

I sat there frozen, unwilling to admit that this was real…even though the physical reaction of my body wracked me completely. I opened my eyes, willing it to be a dream, but it wasn't. He was still there, rigid and unmoving. And even in the dark, I could see his wide eyes intently staring into my own. I drew in a deep and burning breath, as I fought to fill my constricted lungs.

"Please…" I whispered. "Please…please don't hurt me."

The sound of my whispered plea echoed and hung heavy in the stilled and silent air. And in a movement so fleeting – I barely registered it happening – he was kneeling before me and reaching out to me with his hands.

"You think I would…?" his voice trembled as he spoke softly. "You think that I could…that I would hurt you?"

I was shaking and crying and wanting to move, but terrified of what would happen if I did. He was so close…so fucking close. And having him there, his voice in my ear, his fragrance so thick I could taste it on my tongue…every moment, every memory, every single part of my dream came rushing back to me. But it wasn't real – he wasn't real. He couldn't be.

"No, no, no, no…." I cried. "Please, just…please just stop."

Waking up in his arms.

"No."

His terrified eyes.

"Bella."

Stroking his skin.

"It isn't possible."

Telling him not to be afraid.

"Bella, please."

Touching his face…his lips.

"No."

Kissing my thumbs.

"Bella."

Kissing his mouth.

"No, it's not true."

His hands on my body.

His soft and sucking mouth.

My hands in his hair.

Wanting him.

Needing him.

Over me.

Under me.

Naked.

Tasting him.

Naked.

Tasting me.

Touching me there…his fingers inside.

Falling…

"It's not fucking true!" I sobbed. "You're not fucking real."

His hands immediately dropped to his lap and his face registered the same disbelief that was coursing through my body. His eyes were scared and unsure as he fell back to his heels, assuming a position that felt far less threatening.

And I was confused.

"You…you think…" he choked out. "You think I'm not real?"

It was his voice again. The same voice that whispered to me in the night…in my dream. And then, just like before, I remembered in vivid detail everything that happened on my porch.

Sitting at the Ouija Board.

Touching the planchette.

Talking out loud.

"It's not possible," I whispered.

And he…he had spoken to me.

Through the board.

The planchette fucking moved.

"You didn't know," he said quietly.

It was his name.

Edward.

That moment was real.

That really fucking happened!

I pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around them and rocking back and forth. How was it possible? It wasn't fucking possible! I had lost my mind. There was no other explanation. This wasn't real…but it fucking was! I had been there. I wasn't sleeping when that happened. I was on the porch, awake and alert. And he had communicated with me through the board. And if he could speak to me through the board….that meant…it must have meant…

~x~

He was dead.

My fingers dug into the skin of my legs to the point that it was painful. I was afraid to look up…afraid of what I would see. What would be there…or wouldn't be there. I focused on what I knew was real. The sound of the falling rain that mirrored my tears. The feel of my heartbeat and the in and out of my breath. And I was okay…until I heard his voice. And even though I was scared, I forced myself to open my eyes…to look at him as he spoke, still kneeling before me. His eyes were wide, haunted and sad. And there was so much pain there that it broke me. I knew that kind of pain. I understood that kind of pain.

"You didn't know," he whispered, repeating his words from before. "You didn't know…and you didn't…you didn't want me."

I didn't know what to say because the truth was that I wasn't really sure what was happening…if any of this was real. I felt like I was having some sort of psychosomatic hallucination. Like I was crazy and fucking falling apart. It was as if the days and the years of my trauma and my grief were all culminating at one time. Had I been alone for so long that I had created this person – this man – in my mind? The lines of reality and fantasy, of what was real and what was imagined were all blurred and shifting so rapidly that I couldn't keep up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so fucking sorry, Bella."

My name was a sob from his lips and as quickly as he said it, he fled. He was gone and I tried, fumbling out of my bed and running on shaking legs, to follow him. Still not knowing if any of this was real, but knowing that the absence of him in that moment – real or not – was staggering. I couldn't explain it, I just knew that when he ran, it felt as if I was tied to him in some inexplicable way and he pulled a piece of me with him as he left.

I tripped and fell in the hall, crying out louder as my knees hit the hard wood of the floor, but I pushed myself up and continued down the stairs. I wasn't sure what I wanted. I only knew I couldn't stop. .

~x~

He was gone.

The door was shut and nothing was different, except that everything was different and I didn't know what that meant.

~x~

I stood there for the longest time, unable to move. It wasn't until the ringing of my phone pulled me from my shocked and confused trance. I ran up the stairs and into my room, picking up my phone that had fallen on the floor. It was the bar. Emmett.

"Hello," I said numbly.

"Bella," Emmett's loud voice boomed over the phone. "Where the fuck are you? You should have been here fifteen minutes ago. Is everything okay?"

"Umm…" I started, not knowing the answer to the question. "Umm…yeah. I'm okay. Everything's okay."

Even though it wasn't.

"Well, were you planning on coming into work tonight or not?"

"Yeah…no," I told him.

"Fuck, Bella. Is that a yes or a no?"

"No…I mean, yes," I stammered. "It's a yes. I'm coming. I'll be there. I'm sorry I'm late."

"Fine," he said. "I'll see you when you get here."

I grabbed my keys and purse and headed outside. As I walked to my truck, I looked around, aware of my surroundings and wondering if he was there…if he had been here at all. Was I really that fucking crazy? I didn't think so, but the idea that everything from my dream was true was beyond the realm of anything remotely possible. At least in my mind. How was it possible that this man – this ghost – could have come into my room and been intimate with me in the night? And even more than that, if it actually happened, how was it possible that I thought it was all a dream?

Because it had been surreal.

Because it had been perfect.

I found that I couldn't shake it all as I drove. I couldn't shake the memory of him, the way he tasted like rain and honey…the way he felt hard and soft beneath my hands. And my heart seized and clenched as I remembered the expression on his face, the look in his eyes when I told him that it wasn't possible that he was real.

Was any of this possible at all?

It wasn't.

I knew it wasn't.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

I pulled in behind the bar and went in through the back entrance. The door to Emmett's office was open and he was on the phone.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm gonna have to work tonight. Bella's running late and I need to make sure the bar is covered."

I walked over to the door, wanting to let him know that I was there and that he could leave if he wanted. Emmett, for the most part, was a pretty easy boss. He had been very good to me over the years and he had given me a job when I really needed it. There wasn't much opportunity in a place like Forks, especially for someone with just a high school education. And even though bartending wasn't the most glamorous job in the world, it sure the fuck beat working for minimum wage at the local supermarket. With tips, I made good enough money to pay my bills and I wasn't living in debt to anyone.

And I never would be again.

I knocked softly on the door and Emmett turned in his chair, placing his index finger over his mouth to indicate that I should stay quiet.

"Yeah, baby," he said. "You know that the bar has to come first. I'll see you tonight when I get off. Yeah…you, too."

He hung up the phone and looked over at me.

"Thanks," he said.

"I'm sorry I'm late," I told him. "I've got this covered if you need to be somewhere else."

"Fuck, Bella," he said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit."

"Fuck you," I said, looking down at the floor, knowing it was the truth.

I did look like shit. I felt like shit, but what was I supposed to say? "I'm sorry, Emmett. I may be going crazy and I think I'm seeing ghosts?" I'm sure that would have gone over famously.

"Hey," he said. "Look at me. What's going on? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, looking up at him. "I guess I'm just tired from last night."

"Yeah?" he said, smirking. "You guys had fun? I was expecting you to show up here at some point."

"Expecting?" I asked. "Or hoping?"

"Expecting," he huffed. "And don't try to talk about shit you don't understand."

"Don't I?" I challenged him. "I mean, I just told you I was here and that you could leave, but you're staying. And don't you try to pretend that I don't know why."

"You don't," he said, the tone of his voice harder than before.

"Fine. Who's covering the bar if you're back here?"

"Embry's up front," he said. "And I don't know if I should tell you this, but Jake was here earlier, looking like his fucking dog died. You know anything about that?"

"No," I lied. "Why would I know anything about that?"

"You know why," he said knowingly. "And I'm just saying…we all have shit in our personal lives that maybe we don't want other people talking about."

He was right and I wanted to apologize, but instead, I asked the one question I probably shouldn't have.

"Was he okay? I mean, how…how was he?"

"Well, he didn't get shitfaced, though I suspect that he wanted to. I cut him off after he drank six beers and a couple shots of whiskey."

"You didn't let him drive, did you?" I asked, panicked.

"No, Bella. Calm the fuck down. I called Sam and he came and picked him up. His keys are in the register, if you want to take them back to him."

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, okay."

I walked out to the front and the smell of smoke and stale beer permeated the air. The same faces I'd grown accustomed to were all there. I put on my apron behind the bar and went to work. I grabbed a rag and began to wipe down the counter, wondering if Emmett ever did it when I wasn't there. As I wiped, my mind drifted back to the dark room, the pale and perfect face…the haunting voice.

"I can't give you what you need. I can't be…the person…that you deserve."

"You don't know what you do to me. I shouldn't be here…shouldn't want this…but Bella, I do."

"I don't want to hurt you, but I can't stay away."

"Jesus Christ, Bella!" Emmett yelled, and I looked up at him wondering what the hell his problem was. "You've been wiping that spot for five fucking minutes. I think it's clean."

"It hasn't been five minutes," I told him, wondering if it really had. "It would take five minutes to clean the shit you've left on here all day. Really, Em, this is disgusting."

He laughed and told me to refill Waylon's drink and as I walked to the corner of the bar and made the scotch and soda, the door opened and Rose walked in. She smiled at me, though she looked concerned and I noticed Emmett stop what he was doing and watch her approach the bar. She ignored him completely, of course, coming directly over to where I was standing.

"Have anymore dreams?" she asked suggestively. "You know of the cock variety?"

"None of the cock variety," I said, trying to keep my voice as normal as possible, but still seeing flashes of him in my mind…still hearing his voice saying words that were too much for me to bear.

"What the fuck are you doing to me?"

"Why the fuck do you want this?"

"Tell me, Bella…tell me you want this."

"How are you?" I asked, managing to control my thoughts.

"What about cock?" Emmett asked, interrupting, but for once, I didn't mind.

"Oh, you know…the same," Rose said dismissively, ignoring him completely. "How yours is the size of my pinkie."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, smiling playfully. "And how would you know?"

"I wouldn't," she said shortly. "Bella, can I get a beer?"

I walked back over to the cooler when I noticed a man sitting at the other side of the bar. I knew I'd never seen him before because honestly, seeing him would have been something I remembered. He was handsome – striking even. His blond hair brushed just over the top of his shoulders and his eyes, though glacial and detached, were oddly piercing. He was wearing a black leather jacket, but I could see the faintest hint of a blue shirt peeking underneath it.

"I'll be right with you," I said, heading over to give Rose her beer. He nodded his head just once, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away.

"Who's that?" Rose whispered. "He's fucking hot."

This caused Emmett to take notice and he did so about as gracefully as a gorilla, turning around and blatantly staring him down. The man held his stare, his face expressionless and his posture stoic. I rolled my eyes and told Rose I didn't know before walking back over to him.

"What can I get for you?" I asked, shivering slightly, as if a cold breeze were whipping around me.

"Bourbon, neat," he replied, his voice soft and smooth like butter.

"Preference?"

"Knob Creek, if you have it," he said. "If not, whatever you have on the top shelf will be just fine."

"Umm…we don't have Knob Creek, but we do have Maker's Mark," I offered, picking up a highball glass.

"What kind do you prefer?" he asked and even though he wasn't smiling, his voice was.

And there was something about his voice – something softer than the air around me – that reminded me of Edward's voice.

Edward…

And with no warning, his presence, his face, his eyes and body were clouding my mind again.

"Please, Bella…please, don't be afraid."

"You think I'm not real?"

"You didn't know…and you didn't…you didn't want me."

And I couldn't…my body couldn't control its response. The glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the wood floor. And I stood there looking down at the broken glass and all I could see was the broken look on his face when I told him he wasn't real. And even if I didn't know that he was, those moments were too vivid, too rooted in my memory, not to be attached to something genuine…something existing.

He had existed.

Edward existed.

"Bella!" Emmett yelled, coming across to me. "What the fuck happened? Are you okay?"

And I couldn't look up because I knew I would cry, knew that I would break down in the room full of people. And I couldn't do that. I'd been so strong and so good at hiding my pain. My entire adult life had been nothing but perfecting that ability.

"Bella," he said softer, gentler. "Bella, I'm worried."

I looked up at him, willing the pools of tears that lapped at the length of my lashes not to spill over.

"I'm not okay, Emmett," I told him. "I'm not okay and I need to…I have to go home."

"It's fine, Bella," he said softly. "Go."

I ran to the back and Rose followed behind me.

"Fuck, Bella," she said. "What's going on with you?"

"I don't know," I told her honestly. And that was the truth because I couldn't explain it to her even if I tried. "I just need to go."

"Let me come with you."

"I love you, but no," I said. "I just need some time…I just need to handle this on my own."

"Is this about Jake?"

I shook my head, telling her no.

"It's not about Jake," I said. "I wish…I wish that it was."

"We don't keep secrets from each other, Bella. We've always told each other about everything."

"I'll tell you," I assured her. "I will…but just not right now."

She looked at me long and hard before finally nodding her head in agreement. Reaching out to hug me, she whispered in my ear, "Fine, but I'm calling you tomorrow."

"Okay."

I squeezed her one more time and headed to my truck. I don't know how fast I drove or even how I got there because my mind was on him the entire time. He'd run away. I'd made him run away. And if all of it were true…if I wasn't fucking crazy…I knew that I would regret it.

I did.

I did regret it.

~x~

I pulled up to the house with the night silent and black around me and I ran to the door. With trembling hands, I unlocked and turned the knob, running quickly inside to the place I knew I'd left it.

It was still there.

Even if he wasn't…it still was.

I pulled the Ouija board from the bottom drawer and went back to the porch. I didn't need candles or wine to offer. Because right at the surface of who I was, I knew what I was doing…what I was offering. I only hoped that he would listen. He had listened and spoken the night before.

I needed him to speak again.

Sitting down in the darkness with no moonlight to illuminate my actions, I opened the board up and placed it on the wooden table before me. I took the planchette in my hands and I held it, gripping it tightly as it if would vanish, too. It was all I had left, my only way of connection. And I had to believe – I needed to believe – that it would work.

It had to fucking work.

My heart was pounding in my chest and my emotions were bubbling up to the surface. And I knew in that moment that the only fear I possessed was not of fear of him and who or what he was…it was a fear that I would never know. That I would never get another opportunity to find out. I placed the planchette on the board and I closed my eyes.

~x~

Breathing deeply, I began to speak.

"Edward, please," I whispered, hoping that he could hear me. "I feel like I need to be honest here. And honestly, I feel like I'm going crazy. Like, not even a little crazy. Like Mr. Rochester's first wife kind of crazy."

I laughed nervously, bitterly at my own words.

"I told you I didn't know…and the truth was I didn't. But, Edward…Edward, you have to know that on some level…I really did. I was just so fucking scared when I woke up and saw you there. I thought I'd dreamed you up…created you in my mind. And maybe I did, but now I just don't know. I don't know anything except the way you looked tonight in my room. And I hate that I did that. That I made you look like that."

I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself and to make sense of what was happening inside me…around me. My words weren't making sense…even to me.

"That's not the entire truth. I know…I remember the way you felt last night. I remember waking up in your arms. Arms that were unfamiliar," I choked as I tried to keep myself from crying. "Arms that were unfamiliar…but Edward, they were so soft and gentle and I remember how good I felt…how safe I felt. And even though I didn't know you…even though I didn't know who you were…I felt like I was supposed to be there. And if I was supposed to be there…you…you were supposed to be there."

My attempt to keep from crying was pointless as I sat there, allowing my tears to come. My head fell between my arms and I could feel the cold wood of the table against my skin as I finally let everything go.

I don't know how long I sat there crying, but eventually I lifted my head. Nothing had happened, no movement on the board and he still wasn't there…but I continued to speak. Maybe it was to him, maybe it was to me, but as the words fell from my lips, I found that it didn't matter to whom I was speaking. I just needed to say the words.

"I don't know if it's you or me…I just know that I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired of always trying to be strong…always needing to be strong. When I'm just…not. Maybe you're not real, but a part of me…a really big fucking part of me…thinks that maybe you are. And if you are real, Edward…if you are real and you meant what you said when you told me that you wouldn't hurt me…I want you to come back. I need you to come back."

I waited. There was nothing.

No sound and no movement, just me and the board that had started it all. And I felt so fucking stupid. Stupid and alone and sitting in the dark, unwilling to admit that I'd lost my mind, even though I knew that I had.

"Please," I whimpered once more. "Please, Edward. If you were real…please, please, let me know. Please, talk to me…come to me. Show yourself to me again."

~x~

The cold of the night settled around me as I waited…and for the longest time it was nothing but the silence that screamed at me, telling me that I was wrong.

He wasn't real.

"You're not real," I sobbed softly, heartbroken and more confused than ever.

~x~

"I am real," he whispered. "Bella, I am."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~

A/N

Reviews are love.

Please, leave me some.

Thank you to Marvar for betaing this chapter, for reading it in sections as I placed it all together…and for a million other things. But mostly, thank you for being such a wonderful friend to me. I adore you.

Thanks to Caren (Nerac), rainamd, and ltlerthqak for pre-reading. You guys are awsome and are more than welcome to play in my box whenever you want.

And thank you to every single person who takes the time to read this story. I love and appreciate you all.

My recc' this week:

Died and Gone to Heaven by DoUTrustMe: This fic was wonderful and funny and sweet. I spent the morning reading it and pretty much smiling the whole time. Please, check it out and leave her some love.