Author's Note: Last chapter, long ass note at the end. Thanks to betas jkane180 and Mac214. Pre-readers and cuddlers are wordslinger, katinki, hezpixie, altheajams and twicharmed.
Any excuse to quote Shakespeare:
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
-Act II Scene I of A Midsummer Night's Dream
I was so tired of telling Edward he wasn't real because, really, it wasn't the point at all. I didn't give a fuck if he was real or not; why did it matter when I could feel him, all warm and hard and wet, between my thighs? Why did it matter when his lips, reverent and impossibly hot, kissed and whispered both vows of fidelity and impassioned curses against my throat? Certainly, it didn't matter at all as he moved deep inside me, pushing further and harder into me, venturing deeper than he had ever allowed himself to go before...
Still, it wasn't hard or far enough.
His body was a flurry of motion on top of me. For lack of a better word, he pounded into me, all snarls and groans and teeth and tongue.
I screamed and tore at his chest with my hands, wanting to feel more, more, more-all of him inside me and through me.
"Harder," I howled. "Fuck me harder."
"Bella," he gasped, trying to keep me in place against the tree, but I was much stronger than him now, so much stronger, and I wanted him on his back. I wanted to push him into the earth while I fucked him hard with all of my newborn fury. I wanted him prone and vulnerable and yielding.
He needed to know that I wouldn't let him disappear. I had to fuck him until he was real. He was mine. No matter what was true, he was a part of me now; his venom would forever swim in my veins and nothing, no one could take that away from me.
"Lie down," I ground out, pushing him into the grass with the heel of my hand. The tree shook from the blunt force of his body crashing against the roots.
"Please," he begged, and for a moment I wondered if I actually hurt him. "I need to be inside you." His voice broke with want, and he kissed every part of me he could reach. Every kiss was a question I left unanswered. "Please..."
I roared my vampire roar and gnashed my vampire teeth, feeling very much out of context all of the sudden. "Be still," I whispered. Not only did Edward stop moving, the entire forest halted. I had somehow silenced the trees...
"...and tamed them with the magic trick," Edward said, and it was all so familiar.
The woods around us took on an ethereal quality, like an illustration from a frenetic storybook.
"You really are the wildest one of all."
Oh, I was inadvertently quoting Where the Wild things Are. Wait, what? Did he just read my mind?
"Yes, love," he said solemnly, walking his hand up my thigh and pausing just short of my clit. "You're quoting a children's book?"
Oh, yeah...I was. It was Ethan's favourite.
"So...you know," I sobbed. "You know this isn't..."
"Don't say it," he pleaded, threading his fingers through mine. "Please don't go."
I couldn't help but laugh as I answered, "I'll eat you up, I love you so."
-({})-
Darkness. The sounds died off and were replaced by the metronome of my heart. Except my heart should not have been keeping time at all. It had no time to keep; time being infinite for me now meant that I could stop measuring it.
I was dead, and my heart was an unpolished diamond.
"Are you awake?" A hand rubbed circles on my back, scorching my skin. The hand was sweltering-not right at all. I ached, every vexatious inch of me ached for the cool kiss of Edward's arctic skin. Hunching away from the offending caress, I sought blindly for a cool patch of bed.
"No. I'm asleep right now."
Too hot. Not right at all. My skin felt so positively ablaze against the damp sheets. Sweat seemed to ooze from every pore, but the smell was all wrong. Everything smelled sour, like I was bleeding poison.
"Open your eyes. Please, hon? We need you. Our kids-"
"I'm not..." My tongue stuck against my lip, and I licked at the inside of my cheeks, scraping the roof of my mouth with the rough taste buds; so much like sandpaper. Once again, language evaded me. "...Greg, I'm not her."
Burning. I was still burning on the inside. Obviously the transformation was not yet complete.
"No, Bella. You're still you."
Oh my fuck, that was the funniest thing I had heard since waking up. Still me. Who the fuck was that?
"Wait, did you just crack a smile?"
"No." The corners of my mouth tried to turn up, so I pouted to keep the grin at bay.
"This is most confounding, Bella. You're now giving me your cock-sucking face. Did you suck a lot of cock while you were in that coma?"
That was too much. A laugh exploded out of my throat. "You have no fucking idea. You, sir, have been cuckolded good and thoroughly."
"It cures what ails you." He raised his eyebrow and pointed to his dick.
"You should know that I'll probably kill you," I deadpanned.
"Yeah, but what a way to go." He had the audacity to undo his pants. Didn't he know how strong I was now?
"Stay back. I don't want to hurt you," I insisted, hissing like a cat, but the sound caught in my throat and morphed into a coughing fit. "I'm too thirsty."
"Let me get you some water, baby girl."
"I'm not your baby girl, Greg." My eyes hurt. Fuck, I needed to close them.
"Please stay awake for a little longer. Ethan really wants to see you."
"He's here?" I gasped.
-({})-
"Where did you go?" Edward asked, but only to draw me into a conversation. The question was futile.
Fuck. I knew the truth. How could I tell Edward? The truth had the potential to destroy him, quite literally. I had no fucking clue what to do, but of three things I was certain...
I was certain of the truth: it was a paradox.
I was certain of the paradox: the troubled, broken mind of Flanagan created the preternaturally lucid mind of Swan, but Flanagan needed Swan to understand the truth.
Ergo, I was certain: the vampire mind revealed the truth to her creator.
The truth had been within my grasp all along, but it was distorted. If my memory was a lake, then the truth was a fish skittering just beneath the surface. I could vaguely make out the shape and colour of the swimming creature, but could I trust what I was seeing?
Suddenly, I was breaking through the waves and submerging myself inside of the distortion. The fish was a lie. It wasn't a fish at all...
...or a Swan
...or a vampire.
It was a woman.
The woman who had invaded my mind. The woman who nearly died in the woods.
"Where, this time? Bella, love, speak to me?"
"You know," I sighed, smiling weakly. "You're too clever not to know. Besides, you were reading my mind."
"Yes... the ridiculous fish metaphor."
I punched his gut in response. It was unfair of him to judge my crappy metaphor. I couldn't control my thoughts.
"Ow, okay, sorry. I just thought Plato's cave would be more apt."
"Oh god, I'm having third year Philosophy Theory flashbacks."
"Bella Swan never went to university," Edward reminded me.
"Yeah, but, um, haven't you noticed? Dude, I'm obviously not canon."
Since he obviously was, he indulged me with an eye roll and said, "Tell me about the cave allegory."
"Was it Plato or Socrates?"
"Plato speaking about Socrates."
"Well, that's fucking clear as mud! Okay, I think Plato had this idea that mankind are prisoners of their own minds, seeing only shadows of reality upon a wall of a cave."
"Where's reality?" he pressed.
"Behind their backs - the sunlight streaming through the mouth of the cave."
"Turn around, Bella."
"Don't wanna," I pouted, but I did. The compulsion to know the full story would drive me mad, and I had worn blinders for far too long. I turned around, away from Edward, only to find myself immersed in mud. I gasped in a mouthful of water.
"Edward," I gurgled, but my voice couldn't reach him through the water. All sound evaded me then, but for the honking of a goose.
-({})-
(Excerpt from Chapter 22 - When Swans Cry)
I froze at the sound of sloshing footsteps.
"Hey, darling." A voice materialized from behind me. I pulled myself off the ground but got kicked back down onto my knees. "Get on all fours, pretty thing."
No fucking way. No fucking way was this asshole going to fuck with me.
"What do you want?" I tried to speak calmly but had trouble controlling the hysterical timbre in my voice.
"Ah, shit, baby. Don't be like that." He flashed something metal in my peripheral, and my hysteria was replaced with terrorized shock. My limbs went completely numb with fear, and my breathing quickened beyond my ability to catch up.
I never thought I'd be the damsel in distress. I always imagined that if I was ever attacked, I would somehow be brave and kick ass. I knew the rules: never beg for one's life.
"Please?" I begged.
"Stand up." His voice was cold now.
I stood, nearly tripping on my rubber legs. "What do you want?" My voice sounded like it was coming from someone else. Not me. This couldn't be happening to me.
"Take your pants off."
"Please," I begged. This shit doesn't happen to me!
-({})-
I was still submerged, but the water had become shallow. It was impossible to tell if I was breathing or not. It was impossible to tell the light of the moon from the dull incandescence of the search lights.
-({})-
(Excerpt from Chapter 32 - Small Gods)
"That shit doesn't happen to me!"
"Baby, are you remembering?" Oh, god.
"Greggy," I choked and buried my face into his shoulder, sobbing violently.
"I know, baby girl. It's going to be okay."
"It won't. I can't...I'm sorry."
"Stay with me, Izzy." He grabbed my arms roughly, as if he was trying to keep me grounded in his world, but I shook my head.
"I'm sorry," I repeated and disappeared again.
-({})-
I was awake. Fuck. I had never felt this awake in my life. The Zopiclone in my IV was my new reality, the truth that burned through my veins instead of venom, destroying my dreams.
"How long was I under?" I whispered, clutching Greg's hand.
"The first time? You were in a medically-induced coma while you healed from the attack," Dr. Shapiro explained warily, like he had told me the same piece of information many times before.
"And Bella Swan?"
"You've been seeing her since you emerged. Also every time we managed to wake you after..."
"After the suicide attempt." My head lowered into my palms. "I wasn't trying to die... Greg, please understand that I only wanted to get home."
"You didn't believe me, though. I tried to tell you who you are, and you didn't..." He pulled his hand away from me. I wanted to cry, out I wasn't sure if I could.
"I understand." I nodded. "The first time was the attack. I kept trying to stay in Tacoma, but it wasn't working..."
"Just dreams," Greg choked. "Fuck, Bella, I did my fucking best, but there's only so much I can take."
"Please," I begged. "Tell me what do I need to do to get better? I'll do anything..."
"Dreamless sleep," Dr. Shapiro had explained to us. "It's time we stop treating the post-traumatic stress so aggressively and work more on helping your wife deal with her reality distortions."
"I'm in the room, asshole," I reminded him demurely.
Greg cracked a smile before exhaling a frustrated breath. "I don't know what to believe... not when your previous treatments have been so erroneous."
But despite our collective incredulity, the drug achieved the desired effect: I no longer had any waking delusions or lucid dreams of Edward, and slowly, I was weaned off of the anti-psychotics.
In fact, after two solid weeks of treatment, the raging inferno of venom I imagined had infected my bloodstream was almost completely doused. I felt nothing but a dull heat. Actually, I really didn't feel much of anything at all.
Perception is subject to interpretation though. I mean, I thought I was gaining an acceptable level of sanity, but after fifteen dreamless nights, Greg nearly broke his fist in the concrete hospital wall. "I'm taking you home. This is bullshit!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"This," he gesticulated wildly. "Crazy Bella was better than this bullshit. I'd rather you thought you were a vampire than see you turn into a zombie."
I smirked and did my best zombie saunter. "I'm coming to get you, Barbara."
"Yeah, that would be funny if you didn't already sound half-dead."
"Well, what do you suggest?" I jumped out of the bed and launched myself at him, intending to throw punches, but instead I found myself cuddling his head against my breast as he sobbed like a child. He had no fucking clue either.
I wanted to punch him in the tit for being a pansy, but I actually loved the motherfucker beyond reason.
-({})-
A week later I decided to become a Christian. No... not really.
Greg and I were chewing Nicorette like that shit was ambrosia, slowly accumulating a disgusting ball of chewed gum. Our love ball, we joked. We named him Alan, and he sat beside my bed; I fucking double dog dared the cleaners to mess with my Alan love ball.
"I've had too much time to think about ridiculous things. An idle mind truly is an instrument of the devil." Alan Ball would be exhibit the first.
"That's idle hands," Greg said like a smug piece of shit, "and if you'd like something to busy them with, may I recommend you fist my cock?"
"Fuck off."
"Well, it's not like you'll be opening your mimsy up for business anytime soon."
Did he really just say mimsy?
"I'm trying to have a serious conversation here, asshole. Do you think I'm being punished?"
"Punished by who?"
"I dunno… God?"
He laughed, making light of my half-assed religious epiphany. "You don't believe in God."
"Maybe this is like a wake-up call or some shit...like from GOD." Fuck, I was becoming a zealot. I'd have to move into a compound in Utah and have sister-wives if I kept that shit up.
"You think you were attacked because of God? If an all-powerful being wanted you dead, you'd be dead. God doesn't beat around the bush, babe; he burns it."
"Well, maybe he didn't want me dead. Maybe he wanted to punish me."
"God doesn't punish people."
"You're such a lapsed Catholic that it's not even funny. I've corrupted your soul."
"Nah, my soul belongs to Nintendo. You've only claimed my virtue."
"Yeah, I am a dirty whore." I smirked.
"The Devil punishes mankind, not God. It's all in The Bible, which you'd know if you ever bothered to read it."
"Why would I read it? It's ridiculously old… and there aren't any vampires in it."
"Totally debatable."
"What is the point of this conversation?"
"You started it," he reminded me.
"Oh, right. I want to go home. I've had too much empty time to fill with nonsense, and I'm over it."
"Not like this."
"Fuck you!" Piece of shit motherfucker.
"Bella… I really think that—"
"Fuck you, you piece of shit!" cunting fucknard.
"Let me speak?" he pleaded.
"So you can tell me I'm fucking nuts?"
"Nah, you were totally nuts before. Now you're a zombie. I want my crazy girl back."
"Guh?"
"Quit taking those dream catcher drugs."
"But… the dreams, Greg. I can't always wake up."
"Take back your dreams. Whatever dreams may come, we'll deal with."
"But… but what if I forget who I am?"
"I'll never let that happen, baby girl."
-({})-
Ethan looked so cuddly in his blue Spiderman pyjamas. I pulled him into my lap and inhaled the baby powder scent of his shampoo. Audrey rocked petulantly in the glider. I used to nurse Ethan in that chair when he was an infant.
"Wild Things!" he yelled and continued on with a grand babble, speaking the secret language of gibberish only four-year-olds could properly articulate.
"Harry Potter," Audrey grumbled, pulling her blond hair away from her eyes.
"It seems we're at a stalemate."
"I'm older," Audrey reminded me.
"Yeah, but, sweetie, if I read that book one more time, I swear I'll go crazy."
"Too late! You're way too old to wake up as Hermione." Audrey was so much like me that it was terrifying.
"You're kind of evil," I giggled. "Definitely demon spawn. I should have named you Nessie."
"That's a stupid name," Ethan reminded me.
"What about Narnia?" Audrey was smirking. There was a joke in her suggestion that made me wonder how the hell she could be so smart for such a little girl. "Nah, never mind. Read him the stupid book. He's just a baby anyway."
"I'm a big boy!" he yelled.
"Stop it, guys. Come here, little man." Ethan scooted back into my lap and seemed to fight against the urge to suck his thumb while I opened the book.
"The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another." I stifled a yawn, absently rubbing the scar across my stomach. My mind was desperately trying to find its way back to Edward, but I fought to stay afloat. If I concentrated, I was able to keep myself grounded in the present time. Soon, I promised him.
"That very night in Max's room a forest grew and grew- and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through night and day, and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are."
"I wish I could be king of the Wild Things," Ethan said thoughtfully.
"You can, baby. Max is a ruler in his own mind."
"The Wild Things aren't real, and Max is psychotic," Audrey added helpfully.
"You're too young to be so pragmatic." I swatted at her feet from my spot on the floor. "Now, shut up and listen to the story." I pulled Ethan closer, breathing in his familiar scent slowly and carefully. It wasn't time to sleep yet. "Max said BE STILL and tamed them with the magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once. And they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all."
"Mumma?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Why doesn't Max stay with the Wild Things?"
"He misses his mother," I explained. "He wants to go home where he's loved best of all."
"Mumma?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Please don't go. I love you best of all."
So, I never read The Bible, but I did remember the line "and a little child shall lead them."
Real tears finally escaped my eyes. I held my babies and promised them that I loved them best too.
-({})-
Our bed was the nicest place on earth. There was a groove in the pillow top mattress we had worn in over the years that fit the curve of my back like a glove. I snuggled into my little groove, and felt Greg cuddle against my back.
"Say hi to your gay vampire lover for me," Greg whispered and kissed the back of my neck. He was unapologetically dressed in a Team Jacob t-shirt and X-Men boxers. I was a lucky fucking woman.
"Shut the fuck up." I yawned and absently reached behind me to palm his balls. His cock popped through the slit in his shorts and bounced shamelessly off my arm.
"I'm holding out," he moped, but didn't try to move my hand.
"C'mon. It cures what ails you..."
"What about your Edward and his amazing sparkling sphincter? He's waiting for you."
Marriage was all about fitting into grooves. Even my ass had a perfect groove that was made just for Greg. He rubbed his dick down while my cheeks cradled it. Just a little further. My hips rotated and my butt lifted as I desperately tried to pull him into my sweet spot.
"I want the dick," I pouted.
"You're such a dirty slut." He groaned and buried himself into me, mumbling that he loved me and also cared a great deal for my pussy.
"Harder," I pleaded.
"Gentler, baby girl." His hands reached around and stroked my breasts in only the way he knew how to do. "I'm going to take my time fucking my sweet girl."
"Dude, no need to get all feathery strokery on me."
"Big need. Poor Eddie is going to find you annoyingly spent when he sees you tonight."
Yeah, I totally saw Edward every night when I fell asleep.
"I love you," I whispered after I came, and my eye lids had become heavy with exhaustion. Behind my lids, Edward's golden eyes greeted me, sparkling along with the rest of his skin.
The dream was always the same, but I understood this distortion perfectly. I wasn't swimming blindly underwater. No, I was no longer a salmon struggling against the current, trying to escape the inevitable. I was no longer the woman dying in the swamp, or the young vampire in the bathtub.
My dreams were perfectly lucid.
The difference was, now I knew which Bella was dreaming.
Shit and fuck and stuff - The End
-({})-({})-({})-({})-({})-({})-({})-({})-({})-({})-
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! There are so many readers and writers I'd love to thank, but I can't do it without forgetting someone so I'm keeping my list short. Jkane180 and wordslinger are my other thirds and I can't do shit without them. I love you twats. Katinki and mac214 for being awesome writers and providing lots of prereading and beta help. I'm in awe of your talent. Feathers_mmmm for being genuinely an awesome person and recommending the fics of smaller authors such as myself to her rabid audience of Chicken bangers.
Sorry, there are a million more fandom friends whom I love and stalk, but this isn't an Oscar speech and the band is playing me off the stage anyway.
Stigmata Tomato is my current multi-chapter fic. Please give it a shot, if you didn't hate this ending! I'm also writing a collab called Sweet Tooth with Mac214.
The genesis of BBS… This is not really a funny story, but I feel like sharing it with everyone who took the time to wade through my mind fuck. I've never given a straight answer about where I got the idea for BBS from. The reason is, the idea came from a very personal and upsetting experience. In May of 2009, I suffered an early pregnancy miscarriage and fell into a depression. I understand that this experience certainly isn't unique to me, but it felt like my world had ended. One night, I had a dream that I was inexplicably transformed into a character from the television show House (unf at Hugh Laurie). Tried as I might, I couldn't manage to convince Dr. House and his team that their universe wasn't real. As the dream progressed, I started to doubt that I was real. When I woke up, I found myself confused for about ten seconds, and strangely disappointed to be back in my own skin.
I'm honestly not really a crazy bitch in real life, but the dream haunted me for months. After a couple of months in the fandom, I wrote an outline for a fanfic that I was terrified to post because it was all kinds of messed up. The response to this fic really shocked the fuck out of me and I can't possibly articulate how thrilling the experience of writing BBS was.
So you just read the entire thing and still have no idea what you read? Don't worry. It was the dream of a troubled woman who reads too much Twilight. She's a mom; she tells inappropriate jokes; she thinks Edward is a twat for leaving Bella, but she wants to fuck him anyway; she thinks Jacob is a douche for trying to be with Bella when he could leave her at any time for an imprint; Oh, and she really loves her iPhone.
Isabella Flanagan is me. Thanks for reading!
One last review?