Disclaimer:

I do not own most of the characters, they belong to Steph Meyer!

Can't remember if I ever posted this fic here. It was written for another Twilight ff site. Stumbled on it while cleaning up my computer, and thought I'd go ahead an post it here.

Chapter One

Dezombification

Even with the pillow covering my face, muffling their hushed whispers, I still managed to catch key words like – doctor, therapy, moving.

Charlie was downstairs with mom discussing Operation Dezombifie Bella. He meant well, but I wish he wouldn't bother. All the talking, sharing of thoughts and feelings, and medication weren't going to change anything. It wouldn't bring Him back, wouldn't fill the gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

The chairs scooted harshly against the floor. They were heading up here as a united force.

The knock on the door was light - Renee. Charlie wasn't quite so subtle. She peeked in; even with the pillow covering my eyes, I could hear the door creak open, but no footfalls, so clearly she was casing things out before they attacked me.

"Bella?" she questioned hesitantly from the doorway. "Baby, we need to talk to you about something."

I didn't move. Maybe if I ignored them long enough, they'd eventually just give up and leave me alone. Not that I blamed them. Six months had passed, and I was no better. Worse even. I guess somewhere deep down, I'd truly believed he'd come back to me. But as each week turned into another month, I knew I'd been foolish to cling to such pointless hope.

The bed moved as she sat gingerly on the edge, her hand rubbing my forearm softly. She pulled the pillow away leaving me staring sightlessly at my ceiling.

"Sweetie, sit up."

I heaved myself up while Charlie began packing my suitcase. I watched him not feeling anything as he tossed what few possessions I had haphazardly into my small suitcase.

"I'm taking you to Jacksonville with me, honey. Alright?"

I didn't respond. What would be the point? I could miss Him in sunny Florida just as well as I did here. It was just geography.

"I've scheduled you to see Dr. Turner as soon as we land. Come on. Our plane leaves in an hour."

Charlie handed me my shoes and a jacket which I quickly threw on while avoiding eye contact with both of them.

Charlie caught my arm before I slipped past my door. "You take care of yourself, kid." I nodded and left the house with all its memories - both good and bad - without so much as a glance and got into the waiting taxi. Guess Charlie couldn't be bothered to drop us off at the airport. But I knew better. He just wasn't good with goodbyes. Neither was I, apparently.

"You know, Isabella, if we are to get anything out of these sessions, you are going to have to make an effort. A real effort," Dr. Turner said during my fifth session with him.

What the hell was I supposed to say? That my vampire boyfriend left me because his sort of brother tried to eat me? I'd be institutionalized before I finished.

I shrugged. "I didn't ask to come here," I mumbled in a croaky voice that hadn't been used much in the last few months.

"Have you at least been keeping your journal as I instructed?"

"Nope," I replied.

"Fine. You may leave. I need to have a word with your mother."

I didn't much like the sound of that. Were they discussing committing me? And if she decided to, what then? I'd be powerless to stop it, because I was still only seventeen. Granted, I was almost eighteen, but almost wouldn't provide me any legal footing. I just had to go along with this psychoanalysis bullshit for the meantime, then, in a few short months she would no longer have any real control over what I did. Funny, that was the first time I'd even considered that notion. I would soon legally be an adult and wouldn't have to stay here putting myself through these pointless sessions.

Mentally calculating how much money I had and if it would be enough for airfare out of this wretched country, I decided I would have to limit myself to one of the fifty states. But what then? School was out, as I would need to find a job.

I was interrupted by a prick to the inside of my elbow and a cool liquid flowing quickly throughout my veins. The orderly caught me effortlessly and placed me on a gurney where he proceeded to strap me in. My eyes found my mom who had tears streaming down her face, before the darkness swallowed me whole.

Every day was the same – cocktail of drugs, interrogation by the doctor, more drugs, then sleep. I barely knew who the hell I was, let alone the answer to the questions they asked.

The orderly – he was new, or at least I'd never seen him before - released my restraints and guided me to the bathroom, waited outside the door, then helped me back to the bed. But instead of replacing the restraints, he just sat there, his eyes appraising.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Want one?" he asked as he lit his and blew the smoke out to the side.

I hated smoking, so why my hand reached out and took the offered cigarette was beyond me, but it did.

"I'm Dylan."

"Hey."

"So you can talk. Everyone says your mute."

"I just haven't had much to say," I replied before taking a deeper drag of the menthol which was making me a bit dizzy, but at the same time relaxed.

"You play cards?"

"Nope."

"Wanna learn?"

"Sure, sure." Ugh, Jacob rearing his ugly, traitorous head.

He explained the rules to Spades, and the next thing I knew, hours had passed and I'd lost the game, but for one full hour, I'd been completely distracted as Dylan made small talk. He hadn't given me my dose of drugs, so my head was clearer than it'd been in a long time, and still I hadn't thought about Him…until Dylan smiled and said goodnight leaving me with my now clear thoughts. Dark thoughts. His face filled my mind as vividly as though he were standing feet from me, with an accusing look. How dare I enjoy Dylan's company, it said plainly.

"Don't you dare," I hissed under my breath. "You left me. If I want to play a game of cards with someone, I will, and you will not make me feel guilty about it."

I closed my eyes and forced the vision away, focusing instead on the sandy blonde hair that fell messily across Dylan's forehead, skimming his green eyes. The way his left side of his mouth pulled up higher when he smiled and the dimple on his right. I rolled over and inhaled deeply in an effort to clear my mind and relax and was hit with the dissipating scent of Dylan's Calvin Klein cologne. At least it wasn't the cloyingly sweet smell that lingered all over my room back in Forks.

That night I dreamt I was lost in the woods, Edward's laughter sounding from all directions as I yelled repeatedly for him not to leave me. Jacob, shifting between wolf form and human form, sat perched on a fallen log, just watching me without expression as I cried and walked around in circles in the mud. Just like Edward, Jake had left me too. He never explained it; he just said we couldn't be friends anymore.

I tripped over a small tree root and the hand that reached for me, didn't belong to Edward or Jacob, but Dylan.

I awoke with a start, my chest heaving, tears trailing down my cheeks, and Dr. Turner staring avidly at me.

"Good morning, Isabella. How are we this morning?"

"Bella," I corrected him just as I did every time he called me by my full name.

"Pleasant dreams last night, I see?" He shifted his clipboard and pulled a recorder out of his pocket. "Tell me, who is Edward?"

I flinched at the sound of his name. I'd gone months without hearing it and last night had been the first time I'd actually thought it. He was always just Him.

"What did he say to you in your dream?"

"Nothing," I admitted. He never said anything. He glowered, he laughed, but he never spoke.

"Alright. And Jacob? Why don't you tell me a little about him," he suggested mildly, but I could see the excited glint in his eyes. I don't know why I decided to participate today, but I suddenly found that I wanted to talk.

"He was my best friend, but he left me too. He said we couldn't be friends anymore, but I don't know why. He stopped taking my calls, and his dad always said he wasn't home when I stopped by."

"It must have been difficult to lose such a close confidant when you were already under so much stress."

"Difficult doesn't even begin to cover it," I murmured.

He added something to the clipboard. We continued our talk for two more hours – me confessing everything except the fact that He was a vampire, and feeling better for it.

So encouraged by my newfound chattiness, my level of medication was drastically reduced, and a television was brought into my room.

After three solid hours of soap operas, I flicked the TV off, and took out the journal that Dr. Turner had given me and began writing in it. I must have fallen asleep. The journal was now tucked away in the drawer of my nightstand, and Dylan was sitting by my side with a smoke hanging out of the corner of his mouth as he watched the TV without sound.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he commented lightly while stubbing out his cigarette in a glass. "Heard you had a breakthrough today." He held his fist out to me and I tapped it lightly with mine, a small smile curving on my lips. His cheerfulness was almost contagious and reminiscent of Jacob before he got all freaky. Dylan was like My Jacob, not the New Jacob; that must be why I was so comfortable around him.

"How long have you been here?"

He glanced at his watch and rolled his eyes up in thought. "About three hours."

"Why? Don't you have other patients to take care of?"

"Already made my rounds. I'm done for the night. Wanna slip out for a bit?" he asked motioning out the window.

"Uh, we're four floors up. I'm so not climbing out that window."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Silly woman. Not the window. Here." He threw some scrubs at me. "Put these on."

I contemplated it for about a second then ran to the bathroom and hastily dressed before joining him. He got us out of the building with ease and ushered me to his waiting, hulking motorcycle. The thing was massive and very intimidating.

"Bella, stop," Edward's velvety voice slid through my head, forcing my feet to still abruptly, my eyes actually glancing around in vain as I searched the parking lot for my angel's face. It had seemed so very real, but clearly something inside me was really broken. This was a real deal hallucination.

"You are not getting on that thing with him," he scolded me and I couldn't hide the smile. Not only did I get to hear his voice, but it almost seemed as if he cared what happened to me; and even better, he seemed jealous of this human man that was busting me out of my medical prison.

Dylan finally realized I was no longer following him and glanced back. "What? You don't like bikes?"

"Bikes are fine," I replied with a huge grin on my face and moved quickly to close the distance between us.

"Then come on, woman, your chariot awaits." He handed me his only helmet, his fingers sliding against my skin as he fastened it under my chin and patted the top of my head. That small amount of physical contact sent butterflies soaring through my stomach, which I just passed off as an after effect from hearing Edward's voice so clearly. I climbed on to the back of his bike, my arms winding tightly around his perfectly whittled waist. Man, Charlie would freaking spazz if he knew what I was doing right now. He hated motorcycles, calling them "deathtraps" and saying things like, "Only idiots ride 'em."

We took off smoothly and I reveled in the air whipping past me, the way the bike leaned perilously left and right in the curves as we wound our way along the road leading towards the beach. It was a perfect night, balmy, and I was seriously considering breaking my no swimming in the ocean rule.

I hopped off and removed the helmet with fumbling fingers before accidentally dropping it to the white sand, though, in the moonlight it was hard to make out the color.

He chuckled and bent over to pick it up. "You seem keyed up."

I returned the smile. It felt weird, but not unpleasant. He was right; I was bouncing around like…like Alice. I forced myself to finish the thought and it didn't hurt as badly as it normally did to think about any of the Cullens.

"Are we swimming?"

"Yup." He took off in a flash, peeling his scrub shirt off and leaving it carelessly on the beach. He was half way there before I sprinted after him, not even considering the whole wardrobe dilemma swimming created.

He cast me a sly look and slid his pants over his hips. I stopped in my tracks, my eyes burning over his very muscular form appreciatively, trying to keep my eyes above the waist, but failing. Trust me, you'd have failed too. He was tan and ripped and clad only in black boxer briefs. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry, and found myself blushing furiously when he caught my eye and winked at me.

"Get rid of the clothes, woman, and get your fine little ass in the water," he called as he rushed into the surf.

Without a second thought, I pulled off the scrubs and stood in a beam of soft moonlight in nothing but my pink cotton bra and matching underwear.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Edward's voice yelled at me, his words quavering slightly in his anger. Good, it was his turn to be angry and hurt. Seven months I'd been locked in my own personal hell because of him, and now it was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine.

"Get dressed right now and walk to the nearest gas station to call a cab."

"No!" I raced across the sandy beach and jumped into the surf expecting the water to be cold, only to be greeted by lukewarm foam swirling around me just slightly cooler than bath water.

Dylan came up behind me, his iron grip around my waist, and pulled my back against his chest. "Swimming time." He flung me out and a small squeal escaped my lips as I sailed through the air before crashing into the wave and sinking beneath the surface. I came up breathless, choking on salt water, laughing wholeheartedly.

"Follow me." He began swimming parallel to the coast and I chased after him, struggling some as I wasn't a great swimmer, and he clearly was. He'd probably lived here all his life and spent nearly every day in the water. Me? Well, I could probably count the times I'd gone swimming on two hands.

After nearly five minutes, we reached a rocky cove. He helped me climb up and led me into the cave like structure. It wasn't really a cave, just a large shelter made of rock. We sat with our backs against the warm stone and could still see the stars shining brightly in the sky.

"I thought I'd hate Florida…but this isn't so bad," I admitted.

"If he tries something with you, you aren't strong enough to fight him off," Edward snarled, his teeth snapping together ferociously like some wild animal. "How stupid do you have to be to go off with some stranger to a secluded spot only accessed through the water?"

"Leave me alone!" I thought angrily at my very irritated hallucination.

"Why would anyone dislike this place? It's sunny all the time and never winter? What's not to like?"

No vampires, I thought darkly, but that wasn't true, because Edward was closer to me now than he'd been since deserting me.

"Yeah, well, keep in mind that I was being forced into therapy upon arriving here. This was more like a jail sentence than anything else."

He looked away from the sky, his eyes studying me leaving me feeling very exposed. Not physically, though I was, but emotionally. He looked at me like he could see into my very soul. "I read your journal, Bella," he confessed. "I know about Edward. I know what you think he is."

I met his steady gaze with my own. I should be pissed that he invaded my privacy or at least worried that he believed I was a nut case, but instead I was just curious. "What I think he is? Trust me, I know what he is. I'm not mental. I'm not writing a work of fiction. He's a vampire," I said forcefully, my words echoing off the rocks in my declaration. In one single moment, I'd completely betrayed the whole Cullen clan and I didn't even give a damn.