Bellial

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/791272.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: Gen
Fandom: Supernatural, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, Twilight Series - All
Media Types
Character: Edward Cullen, Bella Swan, Lucifer (Supernatural), Sam Winchester,
Jessica Moore
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Twilight Spitefic, Spitefic, Book: New
Moon, Vessel Fic, Alternate Vessels
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2013-05-10 Words: 4123

Bellial
by DasMervin

Summary

“I need you, Bella. I cannot do this without you. It’s destiny. We were meant to be. Trust
me.” A Supernatural/Twilight crossover that reinvents certain happenings in New Moon.

Notes

Remember all of those stupid symbolic dreams of symbology in New Moon? Remember
Edward’s voice in her head telling her to stop endangering herself? Remember that
metaphorical hole she was always talking about? Yeah, here is my little crossover AU
explanation of them, seeing as we never got a satisfactory answer that explained any of
them. Not to mention a nice little slap in the face to Bella’s whining and entitlement issues.
Enjoy.

She didn’t want to sleep.

Ever since her birthday, Bella’s perception of reality had been warped, cloudy; life moved on
around her while she remained trapped in a hazy, frozen state. But she wanted it that way—she
didn’t want to move on. As much as her misery hurt, it was at least a reminder of what she had
with…with him.

But the dreams…the dreams made it so much harder.

The first time it happened, she awoke confused, upset, and not entirely sure why she should be. All
she remembered was that horrible feeling of unease and dread in the pit of her stomach. It was
ridiculous—after what had happened to her, after the crushing loss and emptiness she had
experienced, why should a dream of stumbling about in the woods all alone make her feel that
way? She had gone back to her numb cocoon, hearing Charlie’s pointless words but not processing
them, drifting through her day and ignoring the empty babble and the world around her. There was
an odd disappearance. Some strange disaster in Maryland. Flooding in Florida. It didn’t matter.
None of it did—not compared to the fact that…that he was gone. She wished the people around her
would stop trying to comfort her—her days were hard enough to get through as it was. Their bland
platitudes served only to remind her why they felt she needed it, and nothing they could say would
make her feel better.

But when she fell asleep that night, it happened again. The unease was stronger, and she realized
she had been actually searching for something in her dream—searching, and completely unable to
find what she wanted.

She was no fool; she knew what her subconscious was doing to her.

Bella bought cold medicine after school that day. She always slept very solidly on those. She didn’t
want dreams. But that night, the dream came again, and it was worse. Her searching grew frantic,
and the forest seemed darker, dimmer—emptier. She awoke covered in icy sweat, shivering,
terrified and agonized and just…feeling so hollow.

The fourth night in a row it happened, she tried to stop running and searching—she wanted to take
control of the dream, and felt that she could if she just tried hard enough. She could take control
and do what she wanted to do, maybe even force herself to wake up, because being aware of what
was happening but unable to do anything to stop it wasn’t fair. She just wanted to sit down and
wait for morning to come. There was nothing to find, and she was not going to look any longer.

And for a brief moment, she did. Her dream self’s legs locked and she stopped moving. She stood
frozen beneath the sinister green canopy of the trees, and for a single second, all she could hear
was nothing. The crunch of the forest floor beneath her feet was gone. There were no sounds of
life, no wind, not even rain—just thick oppressive silence, closing in around her, because there was
nothing here. Nothing. Edward was gone, and he’d left her behind—left her behind alone and
unwanted and human. She was alone—truly alone, left behind in her own personal nothing.

She woke up screaming that morning.

She was only dimly aware when people tried to speak to her. She knew Charlie was worried; his
look of panic when he’d shaken her awake from her horrible nightmare was the first thing she’d
seen when her eyes flew open, offering up useless reassurances that did nothing for her. Her friends
at school would talk to her, but she barely replied. What could she possibly say to them? And what
could they say to her? Their happy, simple, human lives were uncluttered by life-changing tragedy
like what she’d experienced. Nobody could comfort her. Their empty comforts served only to
annoy her when she heard them. She felt exhausted, drained—the effort of just trying to function
when blanketed in such misery was made worse due to her lack of sleep. She stayed up as long as
she could at night, clinging to wakefulness until her body simply refused to put up with it any
longer and she fell asleep, and the dream would be there waiting for her.

Nothing—there was nothing for her in her dreams. There never would be. And she knew why—she
realized it as she stumbled once more through the dark forest, desperate to hear anything other than
the strangely muffled sound of twigs breaking beneath her shoes.

There was nothing because she was nothing. That was why Edward left—because she was nothing
special. She was just like everyone else around her. She was human. She was worthless, useless,
dull, ugly—nothing.

And as she gazed in mute horror around her at the trees, she knew she was looking into herself.

She was grateful when Charlie shook her awake once more, her choking, sobbing screams music to
her ears.

No. Bella didn’t want to sleep. She could not take it—could not stand it. She couldn’t bear to be
forced to look into herself over and over again and be reminded of all the reasons why Edward
stopped loving her and left her, because she hadn’t been interesting enough, hadn’t been beautiful
enough, hadn’t been special enough. It was made all the worse because she’d had the chance to be
special and beautiful and all those things she felt she was meant for, and it had all been snatched
away from her. She’d been condemned to this useless, human existence, condemned to grow old
and die, condemned to be nothing. She didn’t want to be nothing.

But there wasn’t anything she could do.

So she just curled up under the covers, clutching a pillow tightly to her chest, and held off sleep,
but her eyelids were already drooping as the wind rattled outside, and she knew it was only a
matter of time…

You are nothing but an empty shell.

Nothing.

You are nothing.

People noticed. Bella didn’t realize just how much they noticed, because she was withdrawing into
herself, wrapping herself in a thick blanket of sorrow and self-pity. Her classmates talked and
whispered amongst themselves. They noted her sallow appearance, the dark circles that had formed
under her eyes, the way she paid no attention to anything, the way she hardly ate. They weren’t
stupid—they’d put two and two together and knew what had started this. Most were convinced it
was drugs—people simply did not spiral down into such a state without some kind of aid. A few of
Bella’s friends were concerned for her and tried to ask her what was wrong, but the only response
they ever got was a dull-eyed stare as if she wasn’t quite sure what they were saying—when she
bothered to acknowledge them at all.

Eventually they stopped talking to her, and simply talked about her.

Charlie heard the rumors. He knew what people were saying. His daughter refused to go to
counseling. She refused to talk to anyone. Every night Charlie woke up to Bella’s screams, but
never knew what she was dreaming. He would only receive blank silence or a sharp retort to never
speak to her about her dreams or anything else that might relate to that boy. Charlie knew it was
only a matter of time before her health started to decline too.

But he didn’t know what to do. His daughter needed help and he didn’t know how to help her.

The decision to go to the cliff had been an impulse.

She couldn’t escape her dreams. There was nothing she could think of that would help what had
happened. Edward was gone. The Cullens were gone. What else was there worth living for? Her
human friends? She’d never truly fit in with them. Her parents? She’d all but raised herself—they
had never been sure what to do with her. The Cullens had been her life. Edward had been her life.
He’d told her that she was his life…and now that he was gone, she was nothing. Her friends and
family didn’t understand—couldn’t understand, even if she tried to talk to them. They were only
human and had never experienced even a taste of what she’d had—and never would. Life wasn’t
worth living if Edward was not in it because Edward was the only thing that had ever meant
anything to her. He’d been everything to her—he’d been her life because he was life, but he’d
simply refused to let her have it.

She’d driven aimlessly around after school, winding up right by the coast without even realizing
she’d been going that direction. She’d spotted the rugged cliff faces, seen the way the water
crashed against the base. It had been a whim—she’d gunned her motor and driven as fast as she
could to that spot. The cliff was high; the waves at the bottom pounded relentlessly against the
rocky shore. She’d gotten out of her truck in a daze, stumbling through the rain towards the edge,
part of her still not sure what she was doing.

As she stared down at the cresting waves beneath her, blinking rapidly against the rain dripping
down her face, she thought about how protective Edward was…and how he’d made her promise
with all she had to not be reckless. Why should she keep her promises when he hadn’t kept his?
She knew about cliff diving. It wasn’t like she’d be jumping with any finesse—she just wanted to
jump. To do something stupid and reckless simply because Edward had told her not to…

She took another step towards the edge.

Bella…

She froze. She’d heard it through the wind and the rain, faint, but she’d know that voice anywhere.
Just the barest whisper…

Bella glanced wildly around, half-expecting him to come striding out from the trees behind her, but
she was alone. But she’d been sure…she’d heard something…

Her gaze returned to the edge of the cliff, her resolve strengthening.

“Bella!”

That was not her imagination. Her throat tightened as her breath was snatched away from her. His
voice—flawless and smooth and disapproving, filling up her head with its magnificence, bathing
her in the light of his presence…the empty, hollow feeling in her slowly subsided, and she clung
desperately to it.

“Bella, back away from the edge.”

She didn’t care that she was hearing voices—all that mattered was that she was hearing his voice,
and she stumbled in her haste to do as ordered.

“Don’t endanger yourself, Bella,” the silky voice continued, stern and beautiful. “Go back to your
truck and go home.”

“Edward,” Bella burst out, not sure what she was going to do—beg a delusion to stay with her? It
was better than the alternative of having him fade away.

But fading he was. “Go home to Charlie,” he murmured. “Be safe. For me.”

For him…of course he’d know her only weakness. She staggered backwards, trying to turn to face
her truck.
“Good girl,” he whispered, the last traces of his voice whisked away with a gust of wind once her
back was to the cliff.

But it wasn’t just his voice that vanished. As she fumbled her way inside her truck, not turning it
on and firing up the heater because she didn’t even realize she was shivering, she suddenly became
aware of a dull, aching throb in her midsection. To have that emptiness suddenly filled, however
brief it was, had made her painfully aware of it when she was hollowed out once more. It hurt so
badly she couldn’t breathe—she was so empty without…without him…

She wasn’t entirely sure how she made it home, but she did in time to throw something together for
Charlie’s dinner. She didn’t eat with him—she had a feeling she’d just throw up anything she tried
to eat. Charlie kept asking her if she was okay, but half the time she couldn’t even muster up the
energy to tell him she was fine even to make him leave her alone. The hurt was too deep, and the
urge to find a way to fill that horrible excruciating hole inside her too strong…

Too soon Charlie was knocking softly on her door and bidding her good night. Sleep—she didn’t
want to sleep. She didn’t think she could take the agony of that dream on top of this new pain. She
refused to lie back against her pillows, sitting rigid and upright, staring at the darkness of her room.
Bella didn’t care that she had school tomorrow. She was not going to sleep. She wouldn’t. She
would not face that nothing again.

But it was happening. She felt too tired to keep herself sitting up as the tree outside her window
rattled angrily, and she couldn’t fight it…

Bella’s eyes drifted shut and she was pulled under, sleep descending upon her once more.

It was just dark enough in the forest to be unsettling and potentially terrifying. I knew that I would
be able to spot movement, but it would be too dark for me to make out anything that was stalking
me.

But it didn’t matter. I knew from experience that there would be nothing. There was nothing in the
forest. No predators stalking me, no people looking for me, and nothing for me to find. Not even a
way out from the trees. I could walk in a straight line and find no reprieve. I could twist and turn
and never find anything.

Nothing. All that was here was nothing. I couldn’t find anything, and nobody wanted to find me.

I could already feel the horrible choked screams building up inside of me, that familiar panic
settling in as I stumbled again. Some small part of me absolutely refused to believe there was
nothing—despite there being nothing all times before, surely there would be something this time. I
hated it—I knew it was a dream, but I couldn’t stop my frantic searching. I knew that the
desperation was all the stronger because of my experience on the cliff, that desperate desire to find
something because I’d had a taste, a reminder—I’d heard him. It had been clear and perfect and
there, I had heard him again. And I could not take the nothingness after hearing him again—could
not—would not, I would die before that happened—

And suddenly, there he was.

My heart stopped when I saw him. I had just turned again, stumbling over an invisible tree root,
and he stood before me. He was perfect and glorious and shimmering despite there being no
daylight, a perfect beacon of beauty and hope in this gloomy darkness. His bronze hair was tousled
as it always had been, his bright golden eyes liquid and infinite, and his smile gentle.
It wasn’t possible. Edward was never here in my dreams. He was going to disappear any moment,
to make my pain complete…

He spread his arms, his smile widening. “Bella,” he murmured softly.

Just the sound of his flawless voice was enough to break me from my frozen disbelief. A choked
sob escaped me as I staggered forward as fast as I could. I didn’t care that it was a dream—I had to
touch him. I didn’t stop until I collided with his stone chest, and I waited for him to evaporate
beneath my fingers—surely he would. My subconscious loved tormenting me these days, surely he
was going to disappear…any moment now…

But he didn’t. It all felt so real. How on earth had my dull human memory created him so
perfectly? Every detail was there, right down to his icy and tender touch as he held me gently, his
touch light and delicate as if he believed me made of spun glass. “Edward—Edward, I—” I
blubbered against him, trying to make the words come but I could do nothing but cry against him,
feeling him gently stroke my hair.

“Shh. It’s all right, Bella. Everything is all right.”

“No,” I managed, trying to stem the flow of tears. “It’s not—this is a dream, it’s just a dream.” I
forced my eyes open, staring up into the face of my angel. “And I’m going to have to wake up, and
you’ll be gone,” I sobbed. “And—and it’s not real, none of it’s real. I just want you back—”

“Bella,” Edward said soothingly, “just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

I stared up at him, shivering a little as he stroked her hair away from my face.

“This is a dream, Bella, but it’s the only way I can talk to you,” Edward said gently.

“Talk to—Edward, what do you mean?” I breathed, leaning into his touch and hating myself for it,
because this was going to be all the more painful in the morning when I woke up.

“I’m not Edward, Bella. I’m an angel.”

I blinked up at him, stunned, unable to tear my eyes away from his mesmerizing gaze as my mind
struggled to process what I had just been told.

My natural inclination was to tell him he was being ridiculous—of course he was Edward, because
he was perfect in every detail, just as I remembered. And of course he was an angel—I’d always
thought of Edward as an angel, glorious and divine and beautiful. Something as beautiful as he was
had no business existing on Earth like he did. But as I continued to stare, he very patiently said,
“Not a vampire. Not Edward. A real angel, Bella.”

I swallowed. This was impossible. This—I couldn’t seem to understand anything he was saying.
This was too much—what on earth was my mind trying to do to me now?

It was as if the Edward of my dream could read my mind, and I crazily thought that was impossible
too, because Edward couldn’t read my mind. “Really, Bella,” Edward chuckled. “You had so little
trouble accepting vampires were real, but angels are out of the realm of possibility?”

“But—but you’re Edward,” I mumbled, stroking his shirt front and trying to comprehend what I
was being told. I was still mostly convinced that this was all just a bizarre dream.

“I am not Edward—simply taking a form you can best understand.” His freezing hands cupped my
face, his bright eyes intent upon my own. “I am an angel, Bella.”
I’d never considered myself religious. I’d never had any firm convictions in the realm of theology,
really. I supposed there was a higher power, but I’d never really thought about it. But…I couldn’t
help it. It was Edward saying it, and every part of me believed him simply because it was Edward.
Even if it…really wasn’t.

And so despite my disbelief and confusion, I went along with it. Whatever it was. “What…why are
you coming to me?” I whispered.

“Because I need you,” he said simply.

My heart clenched, hearing those words from that voice. “For what?” I asked, trying to remember it
wasn’t Edward but—

“I’m an angel,” he said again, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. “And I’m here because I need
you. You’re special, Bella. Very special.”

I struggled to get her throat to work, trying to concentrate even as his touch dazed me. “Special?” I
repeated dimly.

“Oh yes. For an angel like me…an archangel, the greatest and most powerful of us all…a very
special person is needed,” he murmured.

“Needed how?” I finally asked.

His eyes were warm, loving. “You are a vessel, Bella. A very powerful vessel. My vessel. I need…I
need you to let me take control of your mind and body. And to be honest, it is probably not going
to be pleasant for you. But I need you to let me in. I need your consent. I need you to say ‘yes’.”

Every part of me was screaming at me to say of course, yes, because it was Edward who was
asking and I would do anything for him—I’d die for him, give up my soul for him, anything. He
knew that, I’d tried to make him see that before he’d left, and maybe this was my second chance to
show him that he was wrong, and that I could be strong and special for him…

But the tiny, rational part of me insisted that it was not Edward. It was just a dream…or maybe it
really was an angel.

“I understand that you’re scared,” Edward suddenly said. “But you don’t have to be. You’ve
always felt you weren’t meant for the life handed to you. And you were right.” His hands dropped,
and he took mine in his icy fingers, impossibly gentle and just like all other times he’d done so in
the past. “You’re more than can be confined by this useless human existence, Bella. You were
meant for something special—you were meant for this.” His gaze never left mine. “This is destiny,
Bella. Fate. You were right all along when you thought you were special. You are very special.
You were meant for me.”

I was struggling to remember how to breathe, feeling my hands shaking. I swallowed hard. I
remembered something he’d mentioned earlier, and had to ask, “Will…will it hurt?”

His face filled with a gentle regret. “As I said—it will not be pleasant for you. Such is the price for
a human to wield such divine power. But you were ready to take the pain of transforming into a
vampire, Bella.” He smiled crookedly and I felt my lungs constrict when I saw that smile that I’d
missed so much. “Such courage within you,” he murmured, his cold hand pressing against my
chest, where my heart was wildly beating. He looked up, and his eyes met mine, burning gold. “I
will not force you to do this. This is your choice. All I can do is ask that you let me in.”

An angel. An angel from Heaven. Asking for my help.

I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t even know if this wasn’t a dream. But…I was needed. For
some inexplicable reason, an angel had come to me and was desperate for my aid. Because…I was
special. Because I was meant to help an angel. I was meant to help Heaven itself.

And as I stared into his eyes once more, struggling for courage, struggling to convince myself that
this was real, for a moment I could see him, and see into forever—see the power in his eyes, the
glory and beauty and strength of him, and behind it, the soft, pleading whisper…I need you. I am
nothing without you. And I knew it was real.

I straightened my spine, standing tall in his arms—in the arms of my angel.

“Yes.”

“Sam.”

Sam Winchester woke up. The voice beside him stirred that familiar dull ache in his chest, but it’s
a pain that some part of him welcomes, because to not feel it would mean forgetting her.

He turned. There she was, lying beside him dressed in white, just like before, and just as beautiful.
He couldn’t help but lean forward and press a hesitant kiss to her neck, wishing she was real.

“So,” she said. “This is your life now.” She turned to face him, half-smiling. “Think you can just
live forever with your head buried in the sand?”

Her words cut deep, but he didn’t want to believe them—he couldn’t believe in them. “I love you,
Jess,” he murmured, and then he sighed, sitting up. The bed shifted as Jess sat up as well. “God
knows how much I miss you, too,” he went on. “But you’re wrong.” His voice hardened, filling
with conviction. “People can change. There is reason for hope.”

“No, Sam. There isn’t.”

Sam bowed his head, feeling her soft hand on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut for a
moment, his heart thudding painfully. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you freed me.”

The voice was not Jess’s. Sam turned quickly, staring at the girl who now sat in Jess’s place. He
flew off the bed, startled, quickly backing away.

The girl had a gentle, patient smile. “You know who I am,” she said.

Her eyes were a soft brown. She was small and slight; she couldn’t be more than seventeen or
eighteen. And Sam did know who she was.

“Lucifer.”

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