A HUGE thank you to my talented and awesome beta, Delta, find her at deltadecaitated, .net/u/1105384/ , enjoy her writing, but you can't steal her! LOL!

I don't own Twilight- You knew that already.


Sorry Charlie


Charlie coughed, his mouth horribly dry, but I wiped his lips. The handkerchief in my hand was folded over twice to keep my cold fingers from touching his face. I still didn't trust my sense of warmth, but I was fairly certain he had a fever.

Charlie had called me two weeks ago, which was a week after his doctor had told him there was nothing more that could be done. With his pride broken, Charlie had finally admitted how ill he was. I had returned to Forks; all the Cullens had; Carlisle had wanted to set up the old house and move Charlie in for the best care possible.

It had already been over forty years since Renesmee was born and Charlie had never questioned aloud the miracle that was his granddaughter. He had never commented on how it could be that Renesmee had grown so quickly. He hadn't spoken about how all the Cullens had never changed. It had been his unspoken bargain with me; quite acceptance for continued contact.

But at that moment, as he was starting the final mortal journey, things had needed to be said, choices understood...

"Dad …" I spoke quietly. Charlie's breathing was shallow, but at the sound of my voice he pulled in a deep breath. "Oh Dad …" I said again, my voice breaking. I knew it was almost cruel to offer now, selfish beyond belief, I felt the deep wrongness of it, but I didn't think I could've stood to watch his final breaths when I'd had the power to hold him here to earth.

"Dad," I'd begun again. After all that time, after all he had seen, it should have been easy to tell him. But the words wouldn't come. Charlie's eyes had fluttered open, then searched and found my face. "If," I'd begun again, the words caught in my throat, "If there was some way to save you, to keep you … here… with us, would you take it?" I hadn't said 'alive' for I had learned several things in my last four decades with Edward. Although I disagreed with Edward on our condition being 'dead'; I couldn't really call it "alive"- not in the warm blooded way at least.

But at my question Charlie's expression had softened, almost as if he'd understood and was letting me down easy. "Bells, no, it's my time…" His voiced faded at the end, giving a soft caress to the last breathy word.

"But Dad," I had tried to clarify, "If you could… be like me or… Edward, to stay here with us, would you?" Edward had given me that private moment with my dad and waited in the other room. All the Cullen's were there; they kept a silent vigil over what they saw as a sacred event.

Edward had not had a choice to save his human parents. They had died before he had been changed. So Edward had agreed, with much reservation, that it was my father, and my 'gift' if I choose to give it. I couldn't see my father wanting this, but in that zero hour, I had to offer.

"No Bells." Charlie said firmly.

"Dad," I begged, I felt the finality of that moment weighing on me, pressing me for a confession, "Dad, you never asked. Did you ever wondered what I became? How it was possible?" I questioned my father.

In my desperation I'd been ready to lay everything on the table. To make the choice as clear as possible.

Charlie gave a faint shake of his head. "I wondered," He'd said, slightly ruefully, "I thought I figured it out a time or two." Charlie's dry lips cracked into a weak smile. His eyes were far away; perhaps remembering his cop instincts and how little he had tried to use them on me. "In the end though …" Charlie's words broke off into another coughing spell. Phlegm speckled his parched lips and I wiped them again. After the cough subsided Charlie continued,

"I … decided it didn't matter." I took in a sharp breath. The echo of those words washed over me. Hadn't I said these same words years ago when I'd tried to solve my own mystery? Hadn't I came to that same surrender? I had discovered this same thing all those years ago with Edward. Not the existence of vampires; but the ability to believe the impossible brought on by a little faith and a lot of love. Relief washed through me.

Perhaps Charlie had known all along. Maybe he'd known that no matter what I was, I loved him. The trust in knowing my love had made the fantastic easy to ignore. It was the same way I had been able to trust that no monster lived in Edward. I had opened my mouth to confirm his thoughts, to confess, 'Yes Dad , I'm a vampire!' But I realized that Charlie hadn't said it. He hadn't offered a theory or taken a guess because he truly didn't want to know.

No confession was necessary. There wasn't a secret between us. Charlie saw the look that passed over my face and he'd spoken again, "It's enough," Charlie said, "to know that you are happy Bells. The details are unimportant. I made peace with that a long time ago." He'd said the words as if it had been forever ago. To me everything had felt like just the other day.

I'd known that if I could cry I'd have cried a river in the last two weeks, but at that moment the urge for tears was overwhelming. "Dad," I sobbed, a dry choked sound coming from me. I was at his bedside to comfort him but I couldn't shed a single tear.

Although he and I had never been good at handling deep emotions; I knew a goodbye when I heard it. "Oh Bells," Charlie said, his words a whisper and a sigh, "I'll see you later."

Those had been his last words to me...

Charlie had slipped quietly into the night, passing in his sleep. And I, his ageless daughter, had been at his side. I'd held his hand as he died; aware precisely of the moment his heart had stopped beating. But I didn't let go until his body was a cold as mine.

I realized with sudden sharpness that the platitudes and comforts that one gives the bereaved no longer applied to me. A sick feeling of dread ran through my stone body as it dawned on me that I had seen my father for the last time. Wherever his spirit had gone, whatever after life had greeted him, I may never join him. How could I have an after life when I was so bound to this life?

With sudden and perfect clarity I'd understood; that was the damnation. Not an angry God punishing vampires and excluding them from Heaven; instead the very essence of me being a vampire robed me of my final destination.

Time had forgotten me, left me cold as stone and unchanging. Had Heaven forgotten me as well?

I didn't know. Unlike mortals, who could count on getting the answer in a maximum of about a hundred years, when would I know? I had seen too many vampires killed to believe that my existence was permanent. It was just very difficult to end. My thoughts swam with a new appreciation for Edward's and Carlisle's struggles of faith.

For a brief moment I saw before me Edwards face. The lines of pain etched into it with his one time reluctance to change me. The panic in his eyes at his fear of stealing my soul. I still believed I had my soul, I was still me. But what I didn't have was a guarantee for my soul if my immortal life ended. I didn't know if I would fulfill my father's last request and in some realm see him again.

Sorrow filled me. I rose from my seat, a fluid motion even in overwhelming grief, and stood over my father's lifeless body. I leaned over, no longer concerned with my cold, hard lips, and tenderly kissed his forehead. With a great sense of failure I whispered to him my love.

Then I whispered, even softer and full of regret,

"Sorry Charlie."


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