I saw the mock movie poster on the internet and I just HAD to try and write Twilight from Charlie's point of view, if only because I think Billy Burke is awesome. XD

I'm currently high on caffeine and sugar right now so I'm not entirely sure whether I still retain the ability to write coherently. I'll try and rewrite this into something less eye-stabbingly-bad later on but right now, I just want to get the idea out of my head. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

BTW the mock movie poster does NOT belong to me. Nor does Twilight.

Prologue

No Superman

Even though I had received Reneé's email more than two days ago, I had yet to make any changes to the house to make it more accommodating for the visitor I knew would come tomorrow.

Visitor. Yes, that's it, visitor.

Referring to Isabella as visitor instead of my daughter somehow lessened the wave of panic that was currently threatening to swamp me. In times like this, I had always allowed alcohol to be my lifeboat and today was no different. I either had to stay afloat or drown. But soon, very soon, I knew I had to learn how to swim without the aid of my lifeboat.

The slap of glass against hard wood jolted me out of my thoughts and yanked me back to reality. I glanced up from my beer bottle to see Tim glaring at me from behind the bar.

"Moping again, Charlie?" he grunted as he wiped the countertop with a wet dishrag. "You'd think that after finding out your daughter's moving back to Forks, you'd be a little bit happier,"

"I am happy," I mumbled. The stark contradiction between my words and my general disposition had Tim chuckling heartily at me until even I had to smile.

"Happy, eh?" the bartender mocked in a singsong voice. "Don't think you quite know what that word means, Carl,"

"Shut it," I raised the bottle to my lips and let the liquor pool inside my mouth. It burned all the way down. Although he was quiet—just the way I liked him, by the way—Tim continued to frown at me in such a manner that even I couldn't ignore him.

"You got something to say, say Tim,"

"I just don't think you'd like your Isabella to see you like this,"

"Can't break a two-year habit in a few days," I replied. To my eternal shame, I have to admit that I haven't even tried. I still kept showing up at Tim's bar, every night at eight like clockwork, even after the email from Reneé.

I knew that eventually I had to clean up my act, if Isabella really was going to live here with me at Forks. In the past, when she had vacationed here, she had made it very clear that she hated this place; living together with an alcoholic father wasn't going to make it any easier for her. I had to stop, if only for Isabella. I raised the near-empty bottle in the air as if toasting to an invisible partner.

"This'll be my last beer in this place," I announced before I drained it. "I'm going to start over a new leaf," I have to admit, the proclamation lost a bit of its power because my words were slurred.

Some of the other patrons clapped halfheartedly and Tim managed a grudging smile.

"Although I'll miss all the money you brought in this place, I have to say I'm happy for you,"

"Isabella needs a father who's not half-drunk all the time,"

"'Half-drunk all the time?'" Tim repeated in disbelief. "You're being cruel; I'd say that you're just all-drunk half the time,"

I snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Timothy,"

"I mean it, Chief Swan. You're like a fucked-up Superman. When you're in your policeman suit, you all but have a red cape streaming down your shoulders," Timothy smiled wryly as he plucked the empty bottle from my hands. "It's Clark Kent that needs working on,"

"I 'ppreciate the compliment," Even as I got up to leave and began pulling bills out of my wallet, my chest couldn't help but swell with pride. I messed up many, many things in my life: my marriage with Reneé, my relationship with Isabella but one thing I never messed up was my job. And now, here was a chance to mend my broken bonds with Isabella. A chance I will make sure I will not ruin. Not with alcohol; my kryptonite, not with my haunted memories of Reneé, not with anything.

I may not be Superman, but I have long considered myself Fork's protector.

God willing I be my daughter's as well.

Two pages on Word because it's only a prologue and I'm getting a stomachache from all the sweets I ate XD. I'll post the first chapter soon after this, perhaps tomorrow night. I hope that you'll forgive me for making Charlie too emo but c'mon: divorced dad, living alone at 30-40 years old, I think Charlie's bound to have issues. Plus, I'd really like to see how he works this out.