This entire story is very personal to me as it is based on my own experience. This chapter in particular is very close to my heart and is written based on some very intimate moments from my personal history. Tissue warning. Thanks as always for reading and to my beta Saluki.

Chapter 25

Charlie recovered from his pneumonia after four weeks, but he was never the same again. As the days grew warmer, beckoning me to come outside, things continued on a downhill course on the inside. It broke my heart.

I spent every moment I could spare at his side, choking on my swallowed tears. He was still my dad but seemed so fragile, so much more breakable. He slept nearly eighteen hours a day, and when awake his movement was delayed. Wearing the bi-pap constantly gave him severe dry mouth, but it was hard for him to even swallow water anymore, taking small sips through a straw helped. His legs were completely immobile and anchored him to his bed. He was slipping away and I was clinging to whatever I could.

Edward began making daily visits. On Sundays he would only stop by briefly, it was his day of respite. I knew he would be there if I needed him, but he deserved space to recover from the demands of his job. He insisted that he would be there night and day, all I had to do was say the word and he would do it.

Billy started coming by every couple of days. Sometimes Charlie didn't even wake up while he visited, but he always stayed for a few hours, just sitting there in the room. Sometimes he would talk to him while he slept, relaying the latest sports statistics or recalling one of their many outings. One day he got lucky, it was a "good day" meaning that Charlie was alert and awake for more than two hours. I decided they should have their time, their own opportunity to say things two men are only comfortable saying to each other in private. Edward was there that afternoon as well and he followed me when I walked outside to sit on the front porch. I sat on the top step with my legs stretched down the ramp. He sat down next to me, close enough that our bodies were joined at the side. It was comforting to have human contact.

"Are you holding up okay?" His calming voice blanketed me in its silk.

"No, I'm a wreck inside, but I'm trying to keep it together for him." His arm swept around me, he pulled me into him and the damn broke. I had been holding back the tears for too long and they wouldn't stop. I felt Edward gulp as he held me close.

"I'm here for you. I know that's hardly a comfort but-"

I cut him off delicately as I sniffed. "It's more comfort than you realize."

He was quiet after that, as he held me there for a while, mitigating the pain through actions rather than words. I was comfortable, feeling his breath in my hair as his heart pounded against his chest. He surrounded me, making up for the absence of Alice in that moment. He was my net, my cradle, my cocktail and my rock, and he asked for nothing in return.

But, when it came down to it, I needed my girl. I called Alice shortly thereafter. Her line was complete but not yet presented, but I couldn't wait any longer. I hardly held myself in at the seams as I told her about Charlie. She booked a ticket to fly out the following day.

Since I had given my word, I also called Emmett. He was in the midst of an intense training program for his new job so I insisted he see it through. I told him I would call when I knew things were taking a definite turn. I hoped I would know in time to make that call.

When Alice arrived on my doorstep, she dropped her bags and flung her arms around me and the sobbing commenced. Having her there somehow made what was happening more real. She had been a part of my life for so long and loved Charlie, too. She only had a few days to spend before she had to return to present her finished line. She had brought a few of the pieces with her and excitedly shared them with Charlie and me.

The first two dresses she pulled out were very feminine, romantic with an edge due to the dark tones and satin sheen of the fabric. Alice was more sleek and slinky in the way she dressed, but I could see her exquisite expression in them both.

"They are very Goddess like, just beautiful. My best friend is going to be famous!"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, B. It's funny you say goddess though, I refer to it as goddess-chic." Her voice was buoyant and lively, so refreshing.

"I can see it on the runway."

"Thanks, love. But, hold your breath, because I saved the best for last! It's sort of a surprise. It's a more casual piece."

We waited as she unzipped the garment bag and pulled out a dark blue, stylish, exquisitely crafted cargo dress. It was tailored to perfection.

"That's my favorite," Charlie offered, as Alice held it up in front of her before approaching his bed.

She sat down on the edge. "I'm so happy you said that. This dress is called the Charlie." I heard my own hard swallow.

"Really?" my dad asked, his eyebrows raised in an expression of awe.

I could see Alice was holding back tears. "Mmm, hmm. The color is an ode to your years on the force and I have this idea for a embroidering a sheriff's star in matching thread on the pocket. It would be subtle."

"I don't know what to say." And then Charlie broke down in tears. "I'm so proud of you, honey."

He reached out his arms and Alice submitted herself to them. Alice clung to him and I filed the image of them embracing in my memories.

We spent the rest of that afternoon catching up; Charlie ended up falling into a heavy sleep around five for the night.

"What you did for him is so sweet," I said gratefully to her.

"It sort of came to me. I was at the fabric store and I saw the material and had a flashback of Charlie, trolling us around in his patrol car, pretending we were under arrest. I just knew it had to be made."

"He's fading," I said, resigned.

Her bottom lip trembled. "I know."

We hugged constantly over the next few days and cried enough tears to fill an ocean. We never really left the house, but Edward spent extra time with Charlie so that we could have our girl time. It was a time of oasis in my desert of sorrows.

The next three weeks marked the hardest of the arduous journey through terminal illness. Charlie couldn't get out of bed any more. He could still lift his arms, use his hands, turn his head and talk – which was truly fortunate. During the end stages of ALS it was common for patients to lose the ability to speak. Even if he could only say a few words in slow succession, and his voice was only a ghost of its former self, he could still communicate. Edward fulfilled his role with professionalism, but also an incredible tenderness. He bathed my dad in bed and changed his clothing as well. He made sure that Charlie used a bedpan and the urinal rather than strip him of his dignity by suggesting diapers.

By far the most awful, horrible side effect was the water blisters. Charlie's legs, filled with an over abundance of resting fluid, developed huge sacs of water on the surface. In order to avoid infection, he had to have a rather excruciating debriding procedure. Despite a local anesthetic, the procedure was painful and took nearly three hours to complete. I averted my eyes to what was going on as I held my dad's hand. I was screaming inside as I watched tears fall from the corner of his eyes and trail down his cheeks. It was evident he was in pain, but as always, he remained a pillar of strength, the tears his only sign of distress. After the doctor had completed removing the skin, he bandaged his legs. The dressing had to be changed daily, and that was no walk in the park either. I would sit and hold my dad's hand while Edward did what I couldn't have. The dressing would stick to and pull at the new skin as it was removed. Edward worked slowly, patiently, minimizing the suffering as much as he could. On the third or fourth day after the initial treatment, I felt physically ill. I had to bolt upstairs as soon as Edward had finished. I vomited up the minute contents of my stomach in a violent rush.

Edward would stay with us until ten or eleven at night, a few times he even stuck around until midnight. He never wavered.

Sam and Paul stopped by one afternoon for a visit. They spent about twenty minutes with a weary Charlie, who was happy to see them even if he couldn't keep his eyes open for long. I could see in their eyes that they were pained by Charlie's weakened state, but they managed to keep an upbeat demeanor around him.

The long procession of goodbyes continued.

The Clearwaters spent a Sunday afternoon with us. Edward had already come and gone – I still insisted he needed the day off. Sue brought over a homemade summer peach pie; it was heavenly and I devoured two slices. I cut a small slice into smaller morsels and fed them to my dad. He closed his eyes as he let the small bits of fruit and pastry dissolve in his mouth. He really seemed to savor it.

He didn't really eat food anymore, but when he did, he relied on me lifting the fork to his lips and wiping the crumbs from his mouth afterward. It was humbling for both of us, but I tried to take joy in the fact that he was eating real food with real flavor rather than surviving off of bags of grayish-liquid.

July fourth was quickly approaching and, despite the fact that eating was more of a chore than a pleasure, Charlie decided he wanted to have a barbecue. Sam, Josh and Paul were going to be busy with work on the fourth itself so we decided to celebrate on the third. Later I would decide that fate had intervened, even if it really was just that the job demanded police presence on the holiday.

I was so exhausted from the care I had been giving that I couldn't put much effort into the occasion. As a result the menu was nothing gourmet, just good old fashioned Nathan's hot dogs, Emily's homemade chili, watermelon, potato salad and Sue's contribution of fresh strawberry pie.

It was the last time we were all together. It was refreshing and relieving that everyone acted normal, like it was just another gathering – there was no self-perpetuating doom clouding the day. There were no tears or looks of pity; we all just enjoyed the sunshine, good food and company. Minus a few important loved ones, this was our family. We were all bound together by the most important person in my life, Charlie. He was so happy and stayed awake for the entire five hours. He smiled, he laughed and he ate a few bites of food. He even drank a quarter-glass of beer. If I had let myself get caught up in it, I would have believed that maybe he was on the mend, but I would have been a fool to give into that notion. It was his final surge and his last goodbye to us as a collective. Edward stayed behind to help with the evening routine. Everything had gone as it had the night before. Charlie fell asleep, seemingly content with everything. He was happy. After Edward left, I changed into my comfortable clothes and snuggled into the Lazy-boy that was now in Charlie's room. I had been spending my nights in there for several weeks.

At four-o-two in the morning I was awakened by the sound of choking. My dad was gasping for air just as he had a few weeks earlier. I was startled into a waking panic and my cell phone fell out of my lap as I bolted to my feet. I picked it up and dialed 9-1-1 as I moved to his side. He looked stricken with terror, his eyes were wide open and the vessels were red and raised.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?" This time it was a woman that answered.

"My dad can't breathe. We're all alone...he has ALS...we're all alone," I repeated nonsensically.

"Okay, honey, take a deep breath."

She verified our location and dispatched an ambulance immediately. Charlie continued his hacking; it was so miserable and I felt helpless. I removed his mask as Edward had done the previous time and patted him on the back lightly.

"The paramedics should be there momentarily. I'll stay on the line with you until they arrive," she said calmly.

"N-n-n-nooo," I stuttered. "I have to call his nurse. I have to call Edward!" It came out of me like a revelation.

I didn't wait for her response before hanging up the phone and pressing "2" to speed dial Edward.

"Hello, Bella?" His voice was gravely and husky from being roused suddenly.

"It's my dad. He's choking again. I think the pneumonia is back."

"Hang up and call 9-1-1, I'm on my way." He was immediately more alert.

"I already did. Please, don't let me go. I need you."

"I'm here. I won't go anywhere." There was a longing in his voice that brought tears to my eyes. I knew in that moment he wanted to be with me and Charlie, who continued to gasp, his lungs begging for air.

I finally heard the sirens. While the time before I had noticed their approach, this time I hadn't heard the sirens until they arrived. Everything was moving in stutters again, surreal.

"They're here; I have to go get the door. I should go."

"Bella, do not drive yourself. Let me come get you," he pleaded.

"If I can ride with them, I'm going to. I'll let you know."

"I'm in my car now. I'll be there soon."

I hated cutting him off, but I hung up. What I hated more was the brief moment I had to leave Charlie's side to answer the door.

"Dad, I'll be right back."

I opened the door before they knocked and immediately sprinted back to my dad's side.

"We're back here," I called when I heard them come in.

There were four of them and they set to work quickly.

"Please help, please help, please help," I said over and over again under my breath. I watched them try to calm Charlie, but his coughing would not subside. One of them secured an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth while another turned to me and said, "We are going to administer some morphine. It will help his lungs relax."

"No!" I shouted inadvertently. "He doesn't want stuff like that."

"Ms. Swan, he's not getting enough oxygen. We need to act quickly."

I nodded my reluctant agreement. I needed Charlie to breathe too. The four of them lifted my dad from the bed to the awaiting stretcher after one of them had injected him with the morphine.

"Is there room for me to ride with you?"

The paramedic I had addressed put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry. There just isn't room. The other guys had already wheeled the stretcher out of the room.

I quickly caught up, grabbed my dad's hand and squeezed it. He looked at me, turmoil in his wide eyes.

He didn't need words – he was saying goodbye and I love you and it's okay with piercing clarity.

"I love you, dad. I love you. I love you. I love you." I was still repeating the words in a whisper after they loaded him in and shut the doors.

As they pulled away, sirens blaring, I was relieved to see the bright glow of headlights turn onto the street. I ran back up to the house and slammed the door shut as Edward pulled up at the curb.

I flung the door open and got in with maddened action.

"Drive," I commanded anxiously. I didn't have anything with me other than my phone, but I didn't care. The house was unlocked but the place could be ransacked and it wouldn't have bothered me. My only concern was Charlie. Nothing else mattered, nothing.

I didn't wait for an invitation; I grabbed Edward's hand and held to it so fiercely that I was surely cutting off his circulation. The vice grip I had on him would have guaranteed my survival had I been hanging over the ledge of a cliff. It was also the first time he didn't seem to have words.

"He's going to be okay, right?" I don't know why I thought he could reassure me, he hadn't even been there for the attack. Although the attack seemed to be a mirror image of the last one, there was something unsettling about this time, something I couldn't pinpoint. I felt it though, a sense of foreboding had settled into my bones.

"I don't know, Bella. I hope so. My dad is on the way to the hospital, he wanted Charlie to have a familiar face in the sea of medical staff."

"I appreciate that." My knee shook nervously; my anxiety was making me nauseous.

"I got here as fast as I could," he offered.

"You must have driven recklessly; that was fast."

"I figured if I got pulled over there was a good chance I would know the officer."

I laughed through my nerves. Edward's phone buzzed on the center console that separated us. I released his hand.

"Dad?" he answered then listened.

"Alright, were about ten minutes away. See ya."

He hung up before saying, "The ambulance just arrived, and my dad is there."

We drove the agonizing distance, arriving about nine minutes later. It felt more like nine hours.

We didn't even stop to ask where Charlie was. Edward pulled me by the hand as we headed into the ER patient bays. We didn't have to go far; Charlie was in the first one. His eyes were closed and there were a number of people around him. It was relieved of my initial, disparaging thought when I saw his chest moving up and down.

Carlisle approached us as soon as he saw we had arrived. "He's resting comfortably right now. The morphine they gave him at the house did the trick. They've already taken a chest x-ray and drawn blood." He reached out a hand and grabbed me gently by the arm. "Now we wait. Though, I'm sure he'll be admitted."

"Thanks for being here for him."

"Of course. I know this must be frightening for him. I came as soon as Edward called me because I wanted him to have a familiar face."

"That's what Edward told me. Was he awake? Did he see you?"

"No, he was out before they brought him in. He's stable right now. That's what we need to focus on. He's still with us."

Edward moved closer to me and I took his hand again, the action felt natural. I noticed Carlisle's eyes dart downward for a brief moment, he obviously had taken note.

"Edward, are you planning on sticking around?" Carlisle sounded weary.

"Of course," he said, squeezing my hand.

"I'm going to see if I can catch some shut-eye somewhere. I'm still spent from yesterday's surgery."

"I'll let you know if anything comes up."

He nodded before directing at me, "Hang in there; maybe the worst of today is already over."

I half smiled and muttered, "I hope so."

Hours passed as Charlie slept. The pneumonia had returned and it was worse than the previous time, both lungs were eighty percent full. He slept through his admission and as he was moved to a room. It was noon but I felt as though it was seven at night. I tried not to sleep but I know I drifted a few times. I held my dad's hand and rested my head on the bed while Edward slept slouched in a chair backed up against the wall. I was afraid to leave the room because I didn't want to miss him waking up. Even though Edward was right there, I left the bathroom door slightly open when I went in to use it. Charlie didn't move and Edward didn't wake, to my relief.

I sick with exhaustion and anxious urgency for something to happen. I wanted my dad to wake up. He was on an aggressive course of antibiotics and likely remained under the effects of the morphine he had been given. Around noon, Edward woke up again. He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously the position he slept in had left him sore.

"I should get you something to eat," he said groggily.

"I really don't feel like I can keep anything down right now."

He shook his head but didn't push me. "Well, I need to eat. Do you mind if I go grab something?"

"You've been here for hours, sleeping uncomfortably from the looks of it. Please get some food. Go home if you need to," I implored him.

"I'm not leaving you. I'll be back soon."

He walked out of the room and I turned my focus back towards my dad.

He lay stationary, his chest moving up and down with slow measure and tubes and wires coming out from all sides. He had a catheter inserted and wore an oxygen mask – barely clinging to his independence. I felt the tears begin to trickle out of the corners of my eyes as I grabbed his hand in mine. "Come back to me, daddy," I whispered. I had been reduced to my younger self and the thought of losing my dad scraped my heart raw. I ignored my physical manifestations of human need; the dry mouth of thirst and the deep sounds of hunger tolling within my belly. I felt grimy and in need of a shower but something told me not to leave.

Edward returned after about twenty minutes. I was lost in the observation of Charlie in repose, willing him to wake with my mind, when he came up behind me.

"I know you said you weren't hungry," he held out a large cup, "but I thought maybe you could stomach a smoothie. It's strawberry, peach and mango." He offered a pleading smile but he didn't need to ask me again.

I reached out to grab the extended cup. "Thanks. I mean...for everything." I took a long drink through the straw. The smoothie was sweet and creamy and tasted better than I wanted it to. I didn't want to focus on anything other than Charlie.

"I brought this too." He held out a bottle of water. "You shouldn't let yourself get dehydrated." His voice was rich with concern, but there was not a trace of pity.

"I'm kind of a pain in the ass to baby-sit, huh?" I asked in a moment of brief respite.

"Only because you're a fighter, stubborn, just like him." He tilted his chin in Charlie's direction.

I smiled at the vague implication of hope in his statement. He reached out, put his hand on my knee and squeezed. I felt like he was lending his strength to me, transferring his available energy with his firm touch. His eyes were connected with mine and I felt so extremely connected to him in that brief exchange that I sucked in an involuntary breath. He looked away, slightly shaking his head. Had he felt it too?

That moment may have gone down in the book of the unexplained, but seven hours later would have me experiencing what I could only describe as divine.

It was around eight-thirty in the evening when Charlie woke up. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the evening sky glowing orange just outside the window. The television was tuned to PBS and oddly enough they were showing footage of Nina Simone. Not even three seconds after they started airing a performance of "Feeling Good," he opened his eyes.

He stared wide-eyed around the room, a strange gleam in his eyes.

"Dad," I said, trying to attract his attention.

As he continued to gaze around the room, I wondered if maybe he couldn't talk, but then he suddenly spoke. The words sent chills shooting up my spine.

"I can't believe it. I can't believe I'm here." His speech was crystal clear, his voice the equivalent of amazement and joyous disbelief.

Edward, who was at my side, said, "Morphine can play tricks on the mind. He's probably just out of it." He said it quietly so Charlie wouldn't hear him.

"Dad?" I said again, this time it came out like a question.

His head turned in my direction as Nina Simone's voice rang in the background. "Freedom is mine, yeah you know how I feel, it's a new dawn..."

"Bella," my dad said almost with a laugh. He smiled widely. "My Bella," he said again, recognition in his voice.

His voice was dry with dehydration but his words sounded nothing short of heavenly.

"I love you," he said. "I can't believe I'm here," he repeated.

"I love you. You scared me so much today."

He squeezed my hand and then sort of shrugged his shoulders.

Then, his voice drifting, he uttered the familiar phrase, "I just can't believe it."

His eyes focused on mine once more and he said, "I'm so happy to see you, my Bella." And just like that, he drifted to sleep again and the song faded in the background, coming to its own end.

I felt like I left my body for a moment, stunned by the conversation.

"What was that?" I said as I turned toward Edward.

"I think the morphine is wearing off; he'll probably wake up more fully in a little while."

"You think?" I asked, hopefully curious.

"I don't want to give assurances I can't personally uphold. I can't do that to you. We have to wait, but I would take what just happened as a good sign."

"Edward, you should go home. Get some sleep. I promise I'll rest too."

"I would like to shower, get a change of clothes. Can I bring you back anything from home?"

"I'm not sure I want to have you digging through my underwear drawer," I said, realizing my filter was gone.

He laughed under his breath and I couldn't help but notice a slight reddening of his cheeks.

Before he could say anything, I cleared the moment. "Actually I have a ready-to-go overnight bag in my closet on the floor. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"I don't at all. Are you sure you don't mind me leaving?"

I shot him a look of disbelief. "Please, don't make me insist. You've already given so much."

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me tightly to his chest. "You call me if anything changes. I'll be here before you know it. I don't care if I have to break every traffic law there is," he said against the crown of my head before kissing it.

"I will." He left and his absence left a greater void than I expected.

I pulled back the curtain that divided the empty bed from my dad's spot by the window. I lay down on the bed and though I didn't mean to, I fell asleep.

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