Author's note: Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. This is only fanfiction.

Rated M for Graphic language, crude but witty humour, SEX (aka Lemons), masturbation and Canadian spelling.

Indie Twific Winner / GiggleSnort awards for Best Bella / Golden Leomon Nominee

NEW AN-PLEASE READ: FFN HAS REMOVED ALL OF MY DASHES AND SCENE BREAKS. I'M IN THE PROCESS OF FIXING THIS. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE-FLANNY, MAY 30TH, 2012

Chapter One - Wake up and smell the crazy

What's the last thing you remember?

"The woods. I can hear howling."

-({})-

Thorazine is a wonderful and terrible drug. An anti-psychotic with a decidedly delicious tranquilizing undertow. Apparently, I was screaming...I would have stopped on my own accord if someone had bothered to tell me the source of the howling was me in the first place. But the White Coats shot me up with the good stuff before I could properly assess the situation. Ever try to explain yourself on Thorazine? Not fucking possible.

The blond doctor checked my vitals and asked, "Do you remember your name?"

I opened my mouth to speak but felt like my tongue was coated in cotton.

"Isabella Flanagan."

The doctor frowned and continued, "Why are you here, Bella?"

"The last doctor said I have Dissociative Disorder, although I've recently been upgraded to Dissociative Identity Disorder."

"Do you believe that's true?"

"Look, I know I'm sick but I can't be expected to properly articulate myself on this drug."

The doctor sighed. "I'm going to ask you some straightforward questions," he explained, shining a penlight into my pupil. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

"Where are we?"

"Southlake Hospital, Critical Care."

"What State are we in?"

"Both of us? I'm in a pretty frazzled state but you seem to be keeping it together."

"Bella, that's not what I meant...what city are we in?"

"Toronto."

"Country?"

"Canada."

The doctor - Cullen, according to his name tag - marked up some notes on my chart and picked up the phone on the wall.

Cold panic tried to reach my brain but the stupid happy drugs kept it swimming blissfully in serotonin. My body was manufacturing emotions out of third-party chemicals.

My memory was like a mosaic: order smashed into smithereens and laid into a picture of chaos. I couldn't quite remember what day it was, or really what month for that matter. I was pretty sure it had been weeks since my husband brought the kids to see me. My heart was breaking, especially for Ethan, my youngest. He was always such a sensitive little bugger. I know it killed him to be separated from his mummy for so long.

"Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes Bella?"

"You still haven't answered my question...how long since my kids have have been here?"

Dr. Cullen sighed.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question for you. You aren't making much progress here, are you?...I plan to speak to your doctor about your medications."

Speak to my doctor? Who the fuck was he, then?

"I'm...confused."

"Yes, Bella, I know."

-({})-

Fog and frost. So weird, I thought, wiping condensation off the window in my room. I could have sworn it was summer. I also couldn't find my stuff. I would have to speak to a nurse about that...I really fucking needed a smoke.

I left the confines of my tiny room wearing only my institutionally issued nightgown. The lavender pattern reminded me of the day Ethan was born...right here in this same hospital. Certainly happier times.

Jessica whateverherlastnameis was sitting in the common area watching MTV. Fuck, I'd give my left ovary for HBO. I hated reality television. Jessica was definitely representative of the lowest common denominator demographic who ate this shit up for breakfast.

"Hey Jessica."

"Hey Bella."

"Gotta smoke?"

"Yeah...I'll come with you."

The two of us lumbered like lavender clad, Ativan snorting zombies to the nurse's station.

"Smoke," I explained and Nurse Ratchet hit the buzzer.

"Five minutes," she warned me.

Jessica whateverherlastnameis passed me a Camel.

"Jeez, why are you smoking Americans? Dontcha have DuMauriers?"

Jessica gave me a strange look. "What country do you think you're from exactly...and what's a demorry?"

"You know, DuMaurier...red package...tastes like the fucking thing your mouth's been missing all day?"

"Stop talking crazy and smoke the camel. People think we're nuts as it is."

"Hello! Wake up and smell the fucking crazy. Where do you think you are, rehab?"

"Jeebus, Bell. I'm going to bed. Take the smoke and my lighter...but give it back."

I made my way to the side entrance of the hospital and sat on the curb, a good twenty feet away from the door. Fucking Christ it was cold! Where was my coat anyway...and when did I get so skinny? I looked down at my body in shock and awe. I don't think I'd been this thin since I was seventeen.

I lit my cigarette and took a shallow drag but started choking before the smoke could hit my lungs. Shit, it was like I had never done this before! I continued to hack pitifully, however my coughs quickly transformed into screams. A boy in a gray coat had materialized beside me.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Who...where...how?"

"I was hiding behind the tree near the Emergency entrance." He smirked, but his eyes were haunted. His face was a study in contrasts: pale but darkened by the shadows his dramatic bone structure cast. So fucking beautiful. "Carlisle warned me not to come...that you weren't ready to see me."

"I'm hallucinating? This is new."

"No Bella, how many times can I apologize for leaving before you believe me? I've never stopped loving you. The moment Alice saw that Charlie had to have you hospitalized I returned. You're not hallucinating or dreaming. I'm here and I swear, I'll never leave you again."

I started shaking...I recognized this hallucination, how could I not have? He was a perfect manifestation of the vampire my mind created when I read the Twilight saga.

"Well, fuck."

A/N - Reviews are tasty like DuMauriers