Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Check out my profile for some pics of the places described in Beyond Time – some are real… and some are not.

"What is reality anyway? It's nothing but a collective hunch."

-Jane Wagner, as performed by Lily Tomlin

Chapter 3 – Of Fainting and Familiar Faces

I came to, my cheeks still damp with tears and I found myself once again swept into Tom's arms as he walked – actually ran – down the street.

"What happened?" I asked in raspy voice. "What are you doing?"

Tom looked down at me briefly and quickened his already fast pace.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," he said between labored breaths.

Was I that heavy?

"Hospital?" I repeated. "I don't want to go to the hospital. I'm fine."

I started to struggle a bit, but Tom just tightened his grip and gave me a light shake.

"Don't argue with me," he said firmly. "You collapsed in the middle of the street. You're going to the hospital."

"But," I began, "I don't have any money. I can't pay a doctor."

Tom offered me a reassuring smile, but his steps didn't falter.

"Don't worry about that. They don't turn anyone away." He shifted me in his arms. "We're almost there."

"Really, Tom, I can walk," I said without much conviction. To be honest, I was still a little weak from my Edward breakdown and it actually felt kind of nice to be carried.

"Just hold still," Tom ordered, turning toward a huge gray stone building with terra cotta bands striping across it horizontally and bordering each large door.

The building covered a city block, but I didn't have much time to appreciate the architecture before Tom pushed through the door and made his way to a small nurse's station. He looked around quickly, then set me down gently in one of several wooden chairs in the nearby waiting area.

"I'll be right back," he assured me, then returned to the nurse's station. I watched him speak in hushed tones with a woman in a long white dress and apron, wearing a matching starched cap. They both looked in my direction before the woman nodded briefly at Tom and turned to walk away through an arched doorway.

Tom walked over and smiled reassuringly.

"It'll just be a few minutes," he said, shifting to survey the room. His eyes lit on a telephone sitting on a small table across the room.

"I should call the boarding house and let them know what's happened, or Maggie will send the police." He grinned, pointing at the phone. "I'll just be over there if you need me."

I sighed, resigned to enduring a doctor's examination, and nodded at Tom. It wasn't like I was afraid of doctors… after all, I'd spent plenty of time in emergency rooms… it was just turn-of-the-century doctors that made me a little nervous.

Did they still use leeches in 1918?

I shuddered and studied my surroundings. A man sat in a nearby chair, his hand wrapped in a bloody towel, his face a grimace of pain. As I watched, another nurse came and escorted the man and his wife through the doorway I noticed before. Through it, I could see a few beds lining the far wall, and now and then a doctor or nurse would pass by.

A small brass placard on the wall across from me caught my attention and with a quick glance at Tom, who had his back turned, I stood shakily and made my way over to it. Brushing my fingers over the engraving, I read it silently.

Cook County Hospital

Est. 1847

Huh. Cook County Hospital. Wasn't that where E.R. took place?

I smiled to myself, thinking of the TV show, and walked back to the waiting area. I winced when I grazed my shin against a low table and limped over to collapse in my chair.

A mother and a young boy sat one chair down from me, whispering quietly. I sniffed, acknowledging the scent of alcohol and some type of floor cleaner, and once again was amazed at the clarity of this imaginary world around me.

My stomach clenched as the thought passed through my head: Was it imaginary?

I felt ridiculous for entertaining the notion, but once I did I could no longer ignore it. Was there a possibility that this was real?

Logic told me no. Common sense told me no.

The still-throbbing pain in my shin told me 'maybe'.

Could you feel pain in a hallucination?

My mind raced to find a way to determine whether or not what I was experiencing was real. I looked around again and tried to analyze the situation. If I was hallucinating, my environment would have to come from my subconscious, right? So it would be logical that I'd be somewhere I'd been before.

This place was definitely not familiar. I had never been here before… and even though I watched E.R., the hospital looked nothing like this.

And Dr. Carter was nowhere in sight.

Score one for reality.

I'd heard once that you couldn't read words in a dream. Letters were distorted or just disappeared on the page. I'd already read the placard on the wall, but I needed a better test. My eyes rested on a magazine lying on a table next to the little boy and his mother.

"Excuse me," I said to her. "May I see that magazine?"

"Of course." The woman smiled, handing it to me.

My eyes ran over the cover. Two little girls in dresses sat in high-backed wooden chairs, facing each other. One had a skein of red yarn looped around her hands and the other was winding the yarn into a ball. There were a few words on the cover and I read them easily.

Good Housekeeping. February 1918. 15 Cents.

But I needed a better test. Flipping through the pages, I paused on an article near the center of the magazine. A picture of a young woman wearing a white dress and a striped sash took up most of the page. I looked at the text beneath the photo and began to read.

Why We Picketed the White House

By Anna Kelton Wiley

The struggle for the enfranchisement of women is now nearly seventy years old. Since 1848, when the first women's rights convention was held in Seneca Falls, N.Y., women have petitioned, written, interviewed, and deputized for suffrage. No effort, no expense, no sacrifice has been spared. For nearly seventy years women have traveled this country from one end to the other, from north to south, from east to west, by horse and by foot, by train and by motor, preaching the gospel of democracy.

Every printed word was crystal clear.

Score two for reality.

My heart rate had picked up significantly while I was reading, but I still wasn't convinced.

I turned again to the woman with the little boy.

"Excuse me," I said, realizing I sounded like a crazy person but not really caring. "Who is the president?"

"The president?" the woman repeated, eyeing me carefully. "Woodrow Wilson."

She gathered her son to her and moved down a few more chairs.

Woodrow Wilson. Was that right? I didn't know. Why didn't I pay more attention in history class?

I guessed there were no reality points for that one.

I eyed the woman and her son again surreptitiously, searching for familiar features. It always bugged me in the Wizard of Oz that Dorothy never realized she was dreaming. I mean, didn't the girl notice that the Scarecrow and the Tin Man looked remarkably like the guys who worked on her family's farm?

Unfortunately, since I'd arrived there I hadn't recognized anyone. Not a single person was familiar to me. I studied the faces around me… the nurse at the desk, the doctor who just walked through the room, back to the woman with the little boy, who noticed me staring and pulled her son a little closer to her.

Nope, nothing.

As I sat pondering my predicament, Tom returned and sat down next to me.

"Maggie's coming," he said, "I tried to talk her out of it, but she said something about needing to bring you a proper fitting dress. Although it looks to me like that one fits just fine, so I don't know what she's talking about."

At my silence he turned to me. "Bella, are you all right? You seem a million miles away."

I blinked twice, then looked at him carefully.

"Tom, have you ever had a dream that was so vivid you thought it was real?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Sure, who hasn't?"

"So how did you know it was a dream?"

He looked at me warily. "You are one odd duck, Bella Swan." He smirked at his play on words and I rolled my eyes.

"I know, believe me," I agreed, "but bear with me. How did you know it was a dream?"

"Well, let's see," Tom considered. "First of all, you can pinch yourself, although that doesn't always work…"

I slid my hand down beside my leg and pinched my thigh… hard.

It definitely hurt. I bit my lip and rubbed my leg covertly.

"…and no matter how realistic they are, dreams don't last for very long…" he continued.

I thought about that. He was right. Usually, it's not long after you really become aware of the dream that you wake up. Thinking back through the day, I could recall every minute… not counting the time I'd been asleep. Could you sleep in dreams? And adding up the time, I realized I'd been alert for at least four or five hours.

Tom was still talking. "And then, sometimes you can control what happens. That's usually a dead giveaway."

I stared at the front door, willing Edward to walk in and take me against the wall… or maybe that nurse's desk. I eyed it speculatively. The desk would be nice. I turned back to the door, focusing all my will on Edward.

Nothing.

"Bella, are you sure you're all right? You look a little flushed."

I started, sparing one more longing gaze for the nurse's desk before turning back to Tom.

"Sure, I'm fine," I sighed. "Just tired I guess."

This was getting me nowhere. After all, it wasn't really a dream anyway. It was a hallucination. And I didn't think I could ask Tom how you could tell if you were hallucinating. He'd think I was a nut job for sure.

My frustrated thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a pretty, blonde nurse. I slid a sideways glance at Tom. Oh yeah. He noticed she was pretty.

"Miss Swan, I can show you back now," she said politely.

I nodded and got up out of my chair. Tom stood with me.

"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse addressed Tom. "You'll have to stay here." She softened her order with a smile and Tom grinned in response.

Typical.

"Tom, why don't you go ahead and head home," I told him. "Maggie will be here soon and there's no reason for you to wait around."

"I really don't mind," he said to me, his eyes not leaving the attractive nurse. She raised her left hand to pat her hair, displaying the gold ring on her third finger.

Subtle. Nice.

Tom's face fell.

"Well, if you're sure you'll be all right," Tom turned back to me, resigned. "I'll see you back at the house."

"Okay." I smiled at him. "And thanks Tom. Really."

"Don't mention it," he replied, shooting a wave over his shoulder as he walked out the door. I squared my shoulders and followed the nurse - Nurse Patty, according to her nametag – through the doorway into a larger room.

The room was divided by four tall folding screens. In each quadrant sat a wooden exam table with a padded top and set of drawers underneath, a small table holding a lamp and various medical instruments, a large wooden cabinet, and a three-legged stool. Through another doorway to the right I could see a row of low iron beds lined up along the wall. A few were made up neatly with white sheets and blankets, but most contained huddled forms beneath the linens.

"I'm sorry about the wait," the nurse explained. "We're a bit short-handed. We've lost four nurses to the Red Cross this month. With the Russians joining up with the Kaiser, everyone knows it won't be long before our boys are fighting in the trenches. Everyone wants to do their part."

I absorbed her words silently. I remembered that World War I ended in November – after all, that's where we got Veteran's Day – but that was still eight months away. You didn't have to be a history buff to know those eight months would be difficult for everyone involved. Edward had told me once that he wanted to join the fight. I shuddered thinking about him huddled in some foxhole, and was selfishly glad that he was too young to join the army… and would never get to be old enough.

Nurse Patty led me over to one of the exam tables and asked me to sit down, then lifted my wrist and gazed down at a slim watch on her own. I watched silently. After a moment she gave me a small smile and made a note on a sheet of paper inside a manila folder. Reaching over to the table, she picked up a thermometer and ordered quietly, "Open."

I wondered about the sterility of the thermometer and thought about refusing but figured it wasn't worth it. I opened my mouth and Nurse Patty gently placed it under my tongue. She opened a door in the cabinet and pulled out a small wooden box. Opening it, she set it on the table next to me, pulling out some kind of meter connected by rubber tubing to a wide band of cloth.

She looked up at me. "I'm just going to take a blood pressure reading," she said.

She took a stethoscope out of the box, inserting the rubber ear pieces, then pushed up my sleeve and buckled the cloth cuff around my arm. I smiled to myself, thinking about how she'd react to Velcro. Holding the stethoscope to my arm with one hand, she pumped up the cuff with a rubber ball. Releasing the pressure, she listened carefully then removed the cuff and made another notation in my chart. She pulled the thermometer from my mouth and glanced at it briefly before saying, "Everything looks fine here. The doctor will be with you in a moment," and leaving the room.

I was alone in my little cordoned-off area, and I stretched a bit, trying to see around the screen. Through a small window I could see that the sun had set while I was being poked and prodded by Nurse Patty. I stood up and walked quietly to the edge of the screen, peeking around the room cautiously. Seeing no one else, I tiptoed over to the larger doorway and scanned the room with all the beds. It was relatively quiet, with only the sounds of snoring and an occasional moan piercing the air.

Then, I heard a voice, muffled… yet familiar. I turned sharply, looking toward a closed door opposite the waiting room as I heard footsteps approach.

"Watch him carefully tonight," the voice said. "If his condition worsens, we will have to operate right away."

The door opened and I braced myself, knowing, yet not really believing who would be on the other side.

Another nurse came through first, and then I saw the top of his head as he bent over a medical chart, reading as he walked.

"And this patient needs an additional two grains of quinine," he continued in his smooth, other-worldly voice.

At my sharp inhalation, startled amber eyes rose to meet my shocked brown ones.

"Carlisle!" I gasped.

And for the second time in my life, I fainted.

x-x

The sharp tang of ammonia brought me back. I opened my eyes to find Nurse Patty waving a small vial of smelling salts under my nose. I blinked and shoved her hand away grumpily.

"She's awake," Patty called out.

"Bring that light closer," I heard before being blinded as the lamp tilted to shine directly in my eyes.

"Just relax," he said quietly, pulling down my lower eyelid and, I assume, examining my pupils. He released my eyes and I squinted, bringing up a hand to block the light.

"Sorry." The light disappeared and I blinked, trying to re-focus. First, I could only make out blurred features and blonde hair, but slowly Carlisle's face emerged in my foggy vision.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

I stretched a little, testing myself. Someone had moved me from the floor to a bed.

"Yes," I croaked, "actually I am."

I started to sit up, then realized I was no longer wearing my dress.

"What happened?" I asked, clutching the sheet to my chest.

"You fainted," Carlisle said with a small smile. "Most likely due to the corset you were wearing. We removed the corset and Voila! A miraculous recovery."

I never remembered Carlisle as being so sarcastic.

"Well, thank you," I said. "I didn't want to put it back on, but my dress wouldn't fit without it."

Carlisle turned to review my chart. "I'd suggest you get one that does," he said. "Everything else looks fine, but I'd like you to stay here so we can monitor you for a little while and make sure there is nothing to be concerned about."

"Dr. Cullen?" Another doctor appeared around the side of the folding screen and Carlisle walked over to confer with him. While he was absorbed in the discussion I took a moment to gather myself and observe him.

It was shocking to see him walk into the room looking exactly the same. In fact, in his tie and long, white coat he reminded me of the first time we met in the ER at the hospital in Forks. I scanned him briefly, from his fair hair to his well-polished shoes. I knew Carlisle hadn't aged in hundreds of years, but it was so strange to see the evidence of that.

Carlisle was here.

Carlisle was here.

What did that mean in my whole is-this-real-or-some-magic-mushroom-induced-hallucination debate?

He's the first person I recognized, but when I considered the possibilities it did make some sense. If I really was in 1918 Chicago, Carlisle belonged here. He lived and worked here. Was this a Wizard of Oz moment… or another point for reality? I couldn't decide.

I tore my eyes away from Carlisle and caught Nurse Patty looking at me with a grin.

"Handsome, isn't he?" she asked.

I blushed, "No… I mean, yes, he is… but that's not…"

She patted my shoulder indulgently. "That's all right dear. It happens all the time."

I gaped as she walked out into the waiting room and grinned when I saw Maggie almost plow her over on her way to me.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, her brogue thickened with worry. "They wouldn't tell me anything out there. Are you all right? Where's the doctor?" She searched the room before I could answer, zooming her focus in on Carlisle.

"Doctor!" she interrupted. "Please, how is Bella? Is she going to be all right?"

Carlisle opened his mouth to answer, but I called out to Maggie instead.

"Maggie, I'm fine. It's just the stupid corset."

Maggie scowled and stomped back over to my bed, a bundle of cloth under her arm. She tossed it on the bed, waving her arms in frustration.

"Of course it is!" she scolded. "I told you not to wear that thing!"

She turned back to Carlisle, who now stood on the other side of the bed. "Did you tell her to not to wear that thing?" she demanded.

Carlisle's lips twitched.

"Yes," Carlisle said in a voice that I'm sure he'd used countless times to calm hysterical women. "I did tell Miss Swan that I recommend she forego corsets in the future. She will be fine. I just would like to monitor her condition for a little while, then she will be able to go home."

"Well, good," Maggie replied, calming visibly. "That's good." She drew up the stool and sat down delicately.

"I'll just sit here with her and wait," she said firmly, daring him to disagree.

"That will be fine," Carlisle smiled.

She stood up again abruptly, "Actually, I need to… use the facilities." Maggie blushed.

I didn't think anything could make Maggie blush.

"Down that hall, first door on the left," Carlisle pointed.

Maggie nodded, assured me she would be right back, and walked down the hall.

"Have we met before?" Carlisle asked, looking at me intently.

I flinched. Could he know me? Do vampires have some kind of supernatural inter-temporal-awareness or something?

"I don't know," I said slowly. "Do I look familiar?"

I watched him carefully. He was watching me just as carefully.

"No…" he said, "but you're the one who said my name when I came into the room."

I released my tensed muscles. Of course.

"Did I?" I asked innocently. "I don't think so."

I knew he heard me. Even without his super-vamp hearing, he would have heard me. But I figured bluffing was my best option.

His golden eyes narrowed imperceptibly.

"Perhaps I was mistaken." He knew he wasn't.

"I'm sure you were." I knew he wasn't.

He sat down on the stool and flipped through my chart.

"So Miss Swan, are you from Chicago originally?"

I decided to play with him a little, "Actually, no. I'm from a small town in Washington State called Forks. Have you heard of it?"

"No," he replied simply.

"Oh, you'd like it," I continued, enjoying this a little too much. "It's very green… very rainy. The sun hardly ever shines."

"Most people like the sun," he stated.

"Yes, most people do," I said, emphasizing the 'most'. I paused, but couldn't resist adding, "Do you?"

He didn't answer for a long moment and studied me carefully. Crap! Maybe I pushed him too far.

Finally he responded, "Not particularly."

Maggie chose that moment to return to my bedside.

"Well, Doctor," she said brightly, "how's the patient?"

"Intriguing," he said under his breath, apparently for my ears only. Then more loudly he added, "I think she's fine."

He signed the chart with a flourish and announced, "You can take her home. Just burn all of her corsets. Some women are just not cut out for them."

He flashed me an enigmatic smile and swept out of the room.

"He's a strange one," Maggie declared, then picked up the bundle she'd put on the bed.

"I brought you one of my dresses," she said. "It might be a bit short, but it's looser than yours and you can fasten it without a corset."

I sat up and took the dress from her.

"Thank you, Maggie."

"Och, it's nothing," she waved off my thanks. "I'll just wait for you out here." She turned and strode into the waiting room.

I dressed quickly, glad I could dispense with the dreaded corset, and folded my too-small dress, tucking it under my arm. I walked out from behind the screen, my eyes searching the room but not spotting Carlisle anywhere. Nurse Patty told me he was in surgery but left a message that I was to come back if I had any more fainting spells. I found Maggie by the front door and together we walked out into the darkening night.

The walk home was pleasant, the air cool but with a hint of spring. Maggie and I chatted about nothing in particular. She pointed out landmarks along the way and told me about how she came to run the boarding house.

"When my Henry, God rest his soul…" My lips quirked at that and hers rose in response. "When he left, I was at loose ends. I didn't know what to do with my time, let alone how to put food on the table."

"Your husband left you with nothing?" Geez, no wonder she wanted the guy dead.

She nodded briefly. "Lucky for me, the house was my parents', left to me when they passed. I decided to let some rooms and I've been taking in boarders ever since. It suits me. It's like I have family around me all the time."

I returned her smile as we neared the house and turned to climb the steps to the front door. As she reached for the knob, a voice called out.

"Miss Swan?"

We both jumped a bit and I was surprised to see Carlisle standing at the bottom of the stairs. I glanced at Maggie, gauging her surprise. I knew that Carlisle could make it from the hospital to the boarding house in the blink of an eye, but he didn't know I knew that. And it was odd that he would risk such unusual behavior in front of humans.

"Dr. Cullen, what are you doing here?" I asked. "I thought you were in surgery."

"I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment," he replied quietly.

Maggie looked back and forth between us for a moment, then her mouth split in a knowing smile.

"I'll just be inside," she said meaningfully, before going through the door and closing it behind her with a low click.

"Did you follow us?" I asked, going for suspicious but landing a little short.

"Your address was on your admission form," he admitted.

"You sure got here quickly," I marveled, strolling down the stairs slowly. "You must walk really fast."

"Who are you?" he asked brusquely. "What do you want?"

I froze on the bottom step.

"I heard you say my name before you fainted," he continued. "How do you know me? Who are you?" he repeated.

I guess the time for messing with the vampire was officially over.

I took the last step down and looked at him openly, willing the honesty to show in my eyes.

"My name is Bella Swan," I replied. "I don't mean you any harm."

God. I sounded like an alien or something.

"Have we met?"

I bit my lip. "Not exactly, but I know who you are," I admitted.

"How?"

Okay, this was the tough part.

I forced myself to maintain eye contact.

"I can't really explain that," I began. He huffed, crossing his arms in frustration. "But you can trust me," I added. "I would never do anything to hurt you."

He studied me pensively for a moment. "What makes you think you could hurt me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I know I couldn't hurt you… I meant I'd never betray you."

He considered that, then walked over and sat on the bottom step, patting the space next to him.

"You're a very unusual woman," he commented.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I admitted.

"So, let me get this straight," he continued. "You know me, but you can't say how and won't tell me what you know about me. But you want me to trust you and believe that you'd never betray me."

"Yes," I nodded.

"But how do you know you can trust me?" he asked. "Maybe I can't be trusted… maybe I'd hurt you."

I shook my head, "Nope. That would never happen. I know that you are a good man. I know that we can be friends."

"How do you know that?" he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his voice.

"I know things," I said simply.

"You know things," he repeated.

"Yes," I decided to push him just a little more. "For example, I know that you are a man who understands there are things in this world that are extraordinary… things that can not be explained by science."

His eyes widened a bit.

"I guess I am one of those things," I said simply.

Once again he stared at me impassively for a long minute, then a small smile lit up his face.

Ah yes. That's the Carlisle I remember.

"You know what?" he asked, leaning back against the steps. "I think you may be right."

x-x

That night, I dreamed of Edward again.

We were lying in my bed in the boarding house as he lightly trailed a finger down between my breasts, unbuttoning my dress along the way. I writhed on the bed and he hushed me, loosening the dark tie around his neck and slowly sliding it off.

"You need to be still," he whispered, wrapping the tie around my right hand and tying it tightly before looping it through the iron headboard and trussing up my other hand.

This was new.

He continued unbuttoning my dress, sliding it apart then lowering his head to flick at my nipple with his nose through my chemise. He rubbed back and forth and blew lightly before circling it slowly with the tip of his tongue. I arched off the bed, pulling at my restraints and he grinned against my breast before taking the aching nipple into his mouth and sucking deeply.

He blew again on the damp fabric before switching to my other breast, repeating the same delicious torture. He ran a hand down my thigh, tugging my skirt up and over my hips, then stroking agonizingly slowly up one leg. He stopped just short of the point I was dying for him to touch, before moving to do the same to my other leg.

I growled and he smiled again, nibbling gently on my nipple, then increasing the pressure of his teeth and lips as he slid my panties to the side and slid in one, then two fingers. He circled them widely and I moaned, already near orgasm.

"Bella?" A feminine voice interrupted my approaching ecstasy.

What? Who the hell was that?

Edward raised his head and turned toward the door. "Go away, Alice," he growled.

"Bella? Are you in there?"

Why was Alice here? In my hot sex dream? Before I got my orgasm?

Edward raised his head to me, smiling apologetically.

Then he was gone.

I looked around, even under the bed, but he had vanished. Even his tie had disappeared and I rubbed my wrists absently.

"Bella?" Alice called again.

"Alice, this had better be good," I muttered as I got up from the bed and stomped to the door flinging it open.

But I was met with only blackness.

"Bella?"

"Alice?" I shouted into the darkness. I stepped forward, my hands stretched out in front of me. Suddenly, I was at the mouth of a dark tunnel. Alice continued to call my name frantically, and I began to run toward her voice. I tripped and stumbled through the gloom, but saw no light appear ahead.

I stopped running and looked behind me, only to find that I was still standing at the entrance to the tunnel.

Alice's voice faded away.

I cried out in a hoarse voice and awoke trembling violently in a cold sweat.

I turned on the bedside lamp and left it on for the rest of the night, finally slipping into an uneasy sleep as the pink light of dawn began to filter through the sheer curtains at the window.

A/N: Even in dreams, Alice is a cockblocker! Lol!