Author's Note: Hez_Pixie, Mac_214 and Katinki pre-read this chapter via a wc. I force wordslinger to pre-read everything I write and jkane180 beta'd. Please don't lynch me for this chapter.

"Bella, stop." Edward pulled me off of the bed and back into his arms. I didn't know if I was shaking from the cold of his skin or the memory. Shuddering and slipping on my words, I found myself impotent; unable to properly connect with my surroundings. My fingers slid across the bare flesh of Edward's forearm, but I couldn't touch him. To my absolute horror, he was melting like an ice cube.

"Oh my God..."

"No, Bella. You're fine."

"Let go of me!"

His arms were constricting me still, but I was wet and shivering. "Please don't ask me to do that," he pleaded.

Fuck, I couldn't concentrate. Why wouldn't he let me think? "Edward...let go." Everything was ice water and I was drowning in his embrace. Gasping, I drew air into my lungs in short pants, but felt no relief.

"I just want to take you home," he said pathetically, releasing me. Like a dog, I shook the water that was beginning to crystallize in shards from my hair.

"You can't, though. I've broken through the wall, Edward. I understand what's real and what's not."

"Let me make love to you? I'll bring you back."

I shook my head. The puddle at his feet was becoming palpable. "No. Don't you see? When I wake up and you're gone, it'll make it that much more difficult. I can't do it, Edward. I can't let you slice me open and mend me..."

"Sometimes you have to bleed in order to heal."

"I think I've heard that somewhere before."

-({})-

A tear in time, barely a snip, but the sharpness of my realization tore my reality asunder; a clean cut.

This was not a memory. The hospital room transformed into my bedroom in Forks.

This was not a memory. There were pills in my purse, an entire bottle, leftover from my stay in Southlake.

No, not a memory at all. Everything else was fabricated. The fabric of time had not ruptured; I had.

Not a memory at all. I wasn't remembering, I was becoming aware. I was waking up.

-({})-

"The pills?" It was a question posed to myself, since I was alone in my head. Edward was nothing but shards of glass: cold, sharp, and so beautiful.

"You took them," he confirmed, and rainbows bounced off of his skin.

"Am I dead, Edward?"

"We're running out of time."

This wasn't real. This room wasn't real but I had questions that needed to be answered. Who was Flanagan? Why did she matter?

Slowly, I stood, careful not to slip on the wet floor. "I'm unplugging myself from the Matrix," I explained, creeping by him and towards the curtain around my bed. "I've seen how deep the rabbit hole goes and I can't turn this shit off anymore."

"Bella..."

"It's over, Edward." I drew back the curtain, searching, always searching for something that couldn't possibly be there.

Everything felt so foggy and insubstantial, save for the burning pain pulsing in my arm; a fire that grew more dramatic with every pump of my heart.

"Fuck, Edward. How could you do this to me? How could you let me believe this was real?"

"I just want to take you home," he repeated. He was beautiful in the moonlight. Somehow he was sparkling, the delicate light through the window casting shadows on his face, emphasizing his dramatic bone structure.

Now that it was too late, I knew I wanted to go home with him. More than anything, I wanted us to be together forever.

"Goodbye."

"I'm not leaving you," he insisted.

"I am. I'm waking up now."

He froze, completely. "Right. Well... fuck."

"Bye." I could see my face reflected in his eyes.

"Bye, Bella. I love you."

I nodded. All the good that would do me now.

I fell through the ice.

-({})-

"Isabella, wake up. Please open your eyes."

My arm throbbed, my stomach burned, and a fire ignited deep within my throat. A metronome of beeps kept time with my anguish; the pumping of my heart was echoed by a synthetic chime. It sounded familiar and foreign, all at once, like it was out of context with my mind, a step beyond my conscious thought. I couldn't keep up.

I was craving something I didn't understand.

-({})-

An entire bottle, but still, I couldn't sleep. What was keeping me awake?

My phone was beeping. Yeah, of course it was.

You see this coming, but not Laurent? What kind of psychic are you? Too little, too late, Alice. Without checking my call screen, I accepted the incoming call.

"Alice."

"Am I too late?"

"Always."

"Bella? Listen to me, Bella. You need to vomit. Go to the bathroom and make yourself throw up."

I giggled. The idea was so preposterous my entire body convulsed in a violent fit of maniacal laughter. Bile rose in my throat, and I choked and sputtered on the burning liquid.

"That's it, Bella."

My chest heaved. I tried to swallow, to breathe through my nose and concentrate on keeping my stomach calm, but it revolted, churning acid into my chest. My saliva took on a bitter note, and so help me, I fought against a relentless wave of nausea. I clung to my death like a lifeboat.

"Pickled eggs," Alice squeaked desperately.

The contents of my stomach were ejected violently in a pulsating jet of liquid fire. All I did was part my lips; my stomach muscled did all the rest.

When it was over, I was reduced to a quivering mass of sweat and vomit and self-hate.

"Bella? Bella?" The phone mocked me. "He'll be there soon. Hold tight, okay?"

"Nice try," I rasped and cut the line. Edward wasn't coming back. I was no good for him.

A new idea came to mind. "I think I'll have a bath, Alice." My phone blared an insistent ringtone, sounding more shrill than usual, somehow, with Alice on the other end. I flipped it over to vibrate, but still it beeped, notifying me of an incoming text.

Throwing my phone onto the ground, I stripped my soiled clothing off and padded barefoot into the bathroom. Fuck, I was so cold. At least the water would be warm.

It was convenient that Charlie enjoyed such a close shave. Straight edges weren't easy to come by anymore, but there was an ample supply in the medicine cabinet.

I pulled an old lipstick that Alice had left behind from the vanity drawer and scribbled, "Charlie, it's not your fault," across the mirror.

-({})-

Please. I tried to say the word, to beg and scream and claw my way out of myself, but something was making it difficult to speak. Something foreign was wedged inside of my throat.

"Can you hear me? Come back to me, please?"

What came first, the Swan or the egg?

Struggling against an oblivion, a wholly vacant darkness that threatened to overtake my mind, I tried to resurface, to cling to any shred of light I could find, but I couldn't summon the will to open my eyes.

"Squeeze my hand? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

My fingers would not obey my brain. It had taken on a sentience beyond the person whom I thought I was.

-({})-

"Bella?"

"Edward?"

I couldn't make sense of what I was feeling. Edward's voice... I mean, I could hear it, but I couldn't see anything.

Freezing...

Burning...

I tried to gasp, but there was no air.

"Can you hear me, love?"

Sucking wind through my lips, I tried to fill my lungs again.

"Edward?" The texture of my voice was off.

Author's Note: Any clue what happened at the end of this chapter? Include it in your review. If you're right, I'll include your pen name in my next chapter.

I started posting a new fic called Stigmata Tomato. It's an angst/comedy, Bella/Edward and all human. It's a different kind of strange.

Big love to mac_214 for buying my BBS one-shot in the Fandom Gives Back and for being so awesome.

Reviews = Good Vibrations