A/N for 2020-05-24: Many, many thanks to Eeyorefan12 for the gift of her (as usual) excellent mind on this story, and on this chapter, too. We're coming to the end. I'm guessing there will be something like sixty-two chapters with an epilogue, possibly a tiny bit more.
Happy reading :-)
Erin
The others went ahead, leaving Edward and Bella standing alone together, making a final surveillance of the battlefield. While the group had spread the ashes of their fallen enemies, disguising the final remains, there was little to be done for the other, much more noticeable damage Bella had inflicted on the landscape.
She stared at the flattened wake of trees. As a child, she and Charlie had visited the Mt. St. Helens site, where similar damage had been documented, and in parts, could still be seen. The aftermath of what had happened, what she was just accepting that she must have done, was eerily similar.
She blinked at the landscape. This was her. She was like a . . . volcano.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked.
She didn't say anything for a moment, still indexing what her eyes were telling her. What she'd just experienced. Victoria was dead. Her father was alive.
And she'd just blown up a forest.
But her dad was okay. He was here. They were okay. They were all okay. They would get to live their lives.
"Yeah," she breathed out, realizing she didn't need to inhale again. She blinked. She didn't need to do that either.
Looking at her hands, she turned them over, wondering what it would take to summon again the power she had so obviously wielded.
"You'll learn to control it, Bella," Edward said.
Would she? He hadn't. "You can't control your gift."
"I can't make it go away, but I've learned to manage it, utilize it. Each gift is unique."
Bella looked around them again. It didn't feel much like a gift. It had saved her father yes, but what if—what if it happened when she got angry with one of her family members? Oh God, what about the children? Her mind spun ugly possibilities.
And then she burst into a manic sort of laughter that was half frantic tears, half hilarity at the absurdity of what she was thinking.
"What?" Edward asked.
The spasms in her muscles kept her speechless, and she shook her head, waiting until the episode passed.
"What?" Edward asked again. His face was taut with concern.
She had to remind herself that it had only been hours ago that he had been very, very worried about her, and thought that he'd done something wrong in her transformation. It was also not so long ago that the world thought she was utterly insane.
"Crop circles," she said, and then giggled nervously as she awaited his response.
Edward's eyebrows rose as his forehead wrinkled, clearly not reassured by her behaviour or words.
She gestured around herself to the flattened forest and small craters her 'gift' had left. "I always wondered where crop circles came from. And then I looked at what I did, and—somewhere there's probably a vampire whose gift is like mine and they're making crop circles." She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
Whether relieved or amused, she wasn't sure which, Edward smiled and chuckled a little, his hand taking hers. "It's as good an explanation as any."
Her body calmed itself at his touch. It was just the two of them, standing, surveying the minor wasteland she'd created. It would take days—no, weeks—of human labour to clear it and replant. But that thought drifted away, the physical anchoring of Edward's touch eliminating all humour, speculation and worry.
She rubbed each of his fingers gently between her thumb and forefinger, then moved this pressure up his hand, her eyes on his face, making sure her touch was just right. Yes. It was. She brought both hands to his forearms and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Yes, that was familiar too. But when his hands slid around her back and down past her waist—oh, that was new. Absent was the hesitation she'd always sensed from him in their physical interactions. Absent were the tenuous touches and the anxious glances assessing her responses for signs of discomfort. Those were hers now. But only for now, she reminded herself with relief. Because the idea of having to be this careful forever was just not acceptable. How had Edward ever managed it?
"Wait," Edward said, when her fingers reached for the collar of his shirt. He chuckled. "Maybe I'll do that part for now. I don't want us to arrive naked in Alaska."
If the tightly-wound tension between them left any room for it, Bella would have laughed. Instead, she released her grip and held her hands up in mock surrender. "Please," she said, then bit her lower lip.
Yes. His eyes did darken with more than hunger, and now she knew she could watch the pigment as it fled, given the right conditions.
She realized, not much later, that the additional damage to the forest floor was unnoticeable amidst the destruction her power had already wrought. The body-shaped divots and trenches were almost artistic in placement, Bella mused.
She was also pleased to discover that she wasn't the only one made clumsy by urgent and pent-up desire, as she fingered the place on her jeans where a button used to exist.
Edward, at least, looked a bit surprised at himself, if not slightly embarrassed.
It was a long run north, and it would have been much longer if Bella could have had her way. The pull towards Edward was so strong, resulting in another brief interlude, that running was most definitely a secondary concern. To add to the difficulty for Bella, the desire to stop and observe absolutely everything was almost as great.
"Let's try to catch up with them," Edward had encouraged her. Repeatedly. Finally, near Tulsequah, he decided to take control of the situation, "Your Dad was quite anxious, Bella. He'll do better with you nearby." And while she was fast, she was still nowhere near as fast as Edward, so when he added. "Want a ride?" she giggled, but accepted, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she'd done before when she was young. It was a testament to his self-control that he didn't stop even when she buried her nose in his neck to inhale his scent or tangled her fingers in his hair while he ran, but Bella couldn't help feeling smug when he stumbled distractedly once or twice.
They caught up with the other Cullens and the Denalis just as the night cloud-cover was disappearing, revealing a setting moon. On her own two feet again, Bella joined Charlie as they all paused, Jasper excusing himself with the announcement that he needed to hunt.
Bella eyed her brother-in-law, noting his light eyes, wondering why he would say so. Perhaps he thought she needed to? Her hand at her throat, she considered how she felt. Fine, really. There was a dull tickle there, but nothing like the brutal fire she'd had when she first awoke. Edward had insisted that they hunt again on the way here, which had been the catalyst for yet another enjoyable encounter between the two of them.
No, there was really only one need that she couldn't seem to satiate right now. She glanced at Edward and saw the corner of his mouth curl in a knowing smirk. Damn him. Who needed mind-reading when he could scent how much she wanted him, she thought wryly. She shook her head, trying to keep her thoughts decent. Her father was beside her. And that's when she saw that Edward was looking at Charlie. With worry.
Did Charlie need to hunt? Why wouldn't Edward or Jasper just ask him? And why hadn't the guys taken him on the way like they'd promised?
"Have you seen the lake?" Edward asked, seemingly out of the blue.
"Sorry, what?" Bella asked, trying to follow.
"Just over here," Edward said, not taking her hand, but pointing so that Charlie's gaze followed as well. Edward waved his hand to indicate that they should move that way.
The trio walked a few steps to the east, where, peering from the just the right angle, they could see a glassy lake illuminated by the light of the nearly full moon. The still water perfectly reflected the orb back at itself.
"It's beautiful," Bella breathed. Like a magnet, her hand reached back to find Edward's.
Beside her, Charlie watched, too.
"What can you see?" Edward asked Bella, "That you couldn't see before?"
"So much," she whispered. "It's so bright and clear—was it always that bright? Or is it just—?" she waved her hand up and down herself. "Is it this?"
Edward chuckled. "Sunlight is bright, even when it's reflected off the moon." She felt him shrug. "But I doubt you would have seen anything like this as a human. You wouldn't have been this far from civilization and other light sources. And this is a particularly good spot to admire it in." He pulled her back towards him, planting what would have been a chaste kiss on top of her head, if she were human. Her vampire body's response was in no way chaste.
A ways away, she heard the others in their party chuckle as Emmett mumbled something about "Being here all night."
Beside her, Charlie cleared his throat.
She felt Edward ease himself away from her and she looked down at her hands, trying to focus on something besides him. And as she looked, she saw the dull fracturing of light on her hands. It was very, very faint, and she understood that it would only be visible to her kind, but it was visible enough. She held out her hand, watching it glint dully. Beside her, Charlie did the same, but tentatively, a strange expression on his face.
"Bet you never thought you'd sparkle like a glitter ball, huh, Dad?"
"No," Charlie breathed out, but not in humour, almost in . . . relief.
"Are you three ready to go?" Jasper called out. He'd hunted quickly then, Bella surmised, but try as she might, she could scent nothing on him that would indicate he had. What was going on?
"I think so," Edward said with one more glance at Charlie. There was clearly more communication between the brothers. Her gut tightened with worry.
But Edward smiled at her gently. "We can call the kids in the morning if we hurry."
She watched Charlie's head tip down from where he'd been gazing at the sky. "Where are they?" he asked.
"They're with Carlisle and Esme-in Alaska.," Bella replied.
"But we're not going to be anywhere near them, right?"
"No," she assured him, glancing at Edward to see his nod of confirmation. "We can only see them online for now. We talked to them yesterday afternoon."
Charlie exhaled, nodding almost to himself. "Good. Good."
While Bella could see there was definitely something up with her Dad, she had to trust that Edward would tell her if it was something dire. She looked at Edward now, a question in her eyes, but he gave her only a minute shake of his head in response. Whatever it was could wait, then. She tried to let that be enough.
As they ran north again, Bella noticed that Tanya continued to flank her father's left side, while she and Edward ran on his right. She didn't like how close Tanya stayed to him, but she kept her feelings in check. Charlie was a newborn. She was a newborn. These were much older vampires, and they were only trying to keep them all safe. Or, rather, the humans around them safe. Perhaps Tanya had gifts that allowed her to sense such needs? But as much as she attempted to extend the woman credit, Bella struggled, feeling more and more protective of her father.
The group paused, Emmett and Rose running ahead to ensure the way was clear for the newborns in the group.
Bella's focus on Tanya and her father was so great that when Eleazar called her name, she felt miles away, turning her head in what seemed to be a very slow reply. "Sorry, yes?"
Eleazar smiled gently. Or maybe it was a smirk. It was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure she was the vampire equivalent of a space cadet. It was much akin to being a substitute teacher she thought, focus needing to be everywhere all at once.
"Your shield is most impressive," Eleazar said. "Very powerful."
"My what?" Bella asked, still feeling several steps behind in this conversation.
"Your gift," Edward said, coming up behind her, sliding his arm around her waist. Oh. That felt—
Eleazar cleared his throat, and her attention snapped back to him.
"Eleazar is gifted himself," Edward explained. "He can see peoples' talents when they've been changed, which made him a very valued part of the guard."
"The guard? As in the guard?" She asked.
"It was some time ago, but yes. We parted on good terms," Eleazar said. "But your gift. It is unusual. Most gifts are either passive or active, but yours . . ." He shook his head. "It appears to be both."
"So, um, you called it a shield. What does that mean, exactly?" Bella asked, because so far, all she could tell was that it did a really good job of destroying things.
"With shields, there is always a protective element but as to the rest, that I can't say yet. I can tell you it is very, very powerful. We can explore later, though." That smile again—no, smirk, Bella decided. "You are yet young. There are other things you need to attend to."
She was trying very hard not to show just how much she wanted to attend to those things—especially that one thing—to which he alluded, but damn. Edward was right there. And he was—she took in a breath and then released it quickly, realizing that inhaling his scent right then was even more distracting. She was grateful they needed to continue their run northwards so she could avoid further embarrassing herself.
When their group split into two, it was so that Rose, Emmett, and Alice could go North to the Cullens' home near Fairbanks, and the remainder would head West to the Denali's home, located deep in the sprawling park. Bella wasn't exactly surprised that Jasper was staying with them. He was the expert on handling newborns after all, but it didn't make Bella feel any better about what might be going on with her dad.
"Please give them all a hug from me and tell them that I love them so much," Bella said to Alice as she hugged her, and then Rose. She was pleased that neither of them flinched when she did so. When she got to Emmett, she punched him playfully on the arm. "Don't break my kids, okay?"
Emmett grinned just as playfully and pretended to stagger backward as he said, "Ow!"
"Oh, sorry!" Bella gasped, pulling back immediately.
"Just kidding," Emmett said. He winked and then ran.
"Wise man," Edward quipped, watching Emmett's disappearing form.
"Oh, nice," she said, wanting to playfully smack Edward then, but holding back. She really hoped she hadn't hurt Emmett. Then again, hadn't she watched Edward throw him into a tree just that morning? She really needed to get used to this.
When they reached the Denali's home, Bella's eyes widened, as did Charlie's.
"That's not a house," Charlie observed.
"I suppose not," Tanya said, a few steps away. A few steps closer than she'd been a moment before.
Bella's eyes wanted to narrow at this.
"It was an abandoned resort project, which we bought when the financing fell through. It took some string-pulling, but we were able to get the site permitted as a private residence. It's built like a resort, but that's pretty handy when you want some space or privacy from your siblings." She smiled in a way that made Bella feel even more protective of her father. To Bella's eyes, Tanya looked at him like he was a meal.
"Charlie, I think we can find you some fresh clothes to wear," Carmen said softly, a gentle hand on his arm.
"Thank you," Charlie said. "That would be good."
"Tanya, maybe you can show Charlie where he can get cleaned up?"
Bella growled. It wasn't intentional, it simply was.
Tanya crouched defensively and returned the sound.
Without thought, and without even the blessing of a second, Bella had Tanya pinned to the snowy ground.
"Bella!" both her husband and father called.
She sprang off of Tanya and back a body length, her hand to her mouth in horror. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"
"It's alright," Tanya said, standing with Kate's help, dusting her rear off. "It's um, early days, I can see." She glanced at Charlie and Bella. "It's very rare to have a parent in this life. You're very fortunate, and very right to be protective."
Where Carmen and Eleazar had worn suppressed smiles, their faces were sombre now, as were those of Kate and Tanya and Irina. Bella didn't have to do much thinking to see that some deep hurt lingered here.
"I'll show you all where you can stay," Tanya said, gesturing that Bella, Charlie and Edward should go ahead of her.
Charlie spoke up, before anyone could follow Tanya. "I think that Edward and I need to have a few words."
"Of course," Edward said, polite as ever.
"In private," Charlie clarified. To Bella, he sounded . . . he sounded just like her dad. Like when she was young.
She opened her mouth, ready to say she would join them, but Charlie held up his hand in her direction. "Alone." Then he turned to face her, his tone softening. "You and I can talk later."
- 0 -
Edward led Charlie through the forest and down into a small ravine, where a thin little creek ran its course under thicker ice. The ravine was capped by a thick and high canopy of mossy coniferous trees, protecting it from the great weight of snow that silenced the open ground beyond it.
Charlie liked the smell. It reminded him of home, and as Edward listened to his thoughts, he could hear Charlie wondering if Edward's choice in bringing him to this place had been deliberate for that reason—if he was trying to soften him up before Charlie asked several pointed questions. Even after Emmett and Jasper had given Charlie the barest of explanations about his new form and what it would mean, he was clearly overwhelmed.
The way it was looking, Edward might have more questions for Charlie than his father-in-law had for him, given what else he'd heard in his thoughts. The man seemed to be on a most troubling personal mission.
At the moment, though, he wanted to reassure Charlie that they were alone. "The depth of this ravine keeps most sound from travelling. No one will be able to hear us," Edward said, standing on the edge of the creek and deliberately facing away from his father-in-law, letting him gather his thoughts. "It's private here."
Edward heard Charlie wonder how he could know that, and decided it was time to reveal his own, very invasive gift.
"I know it's private, because I've been here before when I've visited our cousins," he said, responding to Charlie's unasked question.
In his peripheral vision, he could see Charlie's head snap up to look at him.
"I can also hear your thoughts." Edward turned to face him. "I can hear everyone's thoughts."
As a man used to concealing his feelings, Charlie's expression and thoughts were disparate, one placidly doubtful, one . . . well. At least he hadn't said it out loud.
"I've given you plenty of cause to have that opinion of me," Edward said. "It's nothing I haven't thought about myself at one time. And believe me, it's not my intention to intrude on your privacy. It's something I can't really turn off, as much as I wish I could."
Charlie stared, his eyes openly questioning Edward's claim. Then he narrowed them shrewdly and his next question to Edward was delivered silently. Is it just us you can hear? Charlie gestured to himself, his face twisting with obvious revulsion for what he had become, and then returned his challenging gaze to Edward.
"No, I can hear everyone. That is, except for Bella."
Ah. Now Charlie believed him. His face showed his sudden worry.
"Why? Is something wrong with her?" he asked aloud.
"No," Edward said, the memory of Bella's identical question all those years ago making him smile a little. "But she asked exactly the same thing when I told her I could read peoples' minds. At the time, I thought it incredibly generous of her, to think that she was the odd one."
Charlie let out a breath. For all his newborn vampire qualities, he still had one foot planted in human ideas, breathing included.
Edward wished that something as simple as deep breathing could calm the man, for Charlie was beyond agitated. Edward was himself still stirred up by their victory over Victoria, needing his own grounding, his activity with Bella on the way here notwithstanding. This was no time to make light of anything, not with a new vampire in front of him. The fact that Charlie had barely given a thought to the ramifications of Edward's mind-reading ability told him this.
"So she's okay? She hasn't . . ." Charlie looked so pained by the image of a red-eyed Bella in his head.
Edward spoke softly, and in a way he hoped would reassure him. "She hasn't hurt anyone. I've been with her every minute. We wouldn't let that happen, and, well . . . when she did encounter human blood, it made her . . . ill."
Charlie stared. "Ill? Like when—"
"Like when she was human, yes."
"Thank God," Charlie whispered. He closed his eyes.
The sudden flood of images from his father-in-law that stemmed from Charlie's time with Victoria nearly knocked Edward over, they were so horrific. It gave him pause, considering their force . . . strangely similar to the way that Josh could shove thoughts his way. While the trajectory of Charlie's thinking had shifted, it had not altered so much as to reassure Edward that the man would not pursue the plans that he had heard from him a few minutes before, nor did it stop the litany of self-flagellation in Charlie's mind.
"You are not a monster, Charlie." Edward said softly. "You were in horrible circumstances when you were turned. Of course you reacted with instinct. Any of us would have, in your place." He needed to make him understand just how different his beginning had been. "What Victoria did—what she told you . . ."
"Who was she to you? And why did she do this to us?" Charlie's face was taut as he interrupted.
Edward regarded his father-in-law carefully. If he was intent on answers, it meant he was less intent on his other ideation. He was happy to hear him asking questions—although less comfortable with having to answer them. "She's wanted to hurt me for a very long time. And when she couldn't get to me, she went after Bella and the people she loved. She knew that the only way to destroy me was to take Bella from me. She was very nearly successful." He thought of how he'd found Bella, on the verge of death, and mentally shuddered.
"How long has she been after you?" The shrewdness in Charlie's voice and thoughts were one, his distress still shoved to the back of his mind.
"Since I killed Victoria's mate, James." Hearing the next question in his father-in-law's thoughts, he continued before Charlie could interrupt him again. "When Bella left you to go to Phoenix, it wasn't because we'd had a fight. It was because James was trying to kill her, and he came very close to doing it."
"She didn't fall down a flight of stairs."
"No," Edward said.
"What else have you lied about?"
This was the Charlie Swan he'd known. The very methodical, protective Charlie Swan. The cop. He was still there, and if Edward had been human, he would have exhaled in relief. The man's early days as a vampire had been so traumatic, he'd feared for the forming of his new mind. After having watched Rose struggle so much—
"What else?" Charlie pressed.
Edward hesitated. What else had he lied about? Where should he start when there was so much from which to choose?
"I'm guessing it wasn't because of your father's job change when you left Forks."
"No." Though he knew he was forgiven for doing so, his chest ached to even recall that self-inflicted parting. "I left to protect her from my kind—from this life."
"Why then? You certainly stayed around after that monster tried to kill her." Very clearly, Charlie did not just think of James as a monster. Edward and Charlie himself were included in that category, too.
Why indeed? "I loved her, and I kept telling myself that we would find a way forward. It was only when one of my . . . someone close to me attacked her, that I saw the truth."
Charlie stared again at Edward but his own self-disgust still warped all his thinking. "And after all that time, you came back? Why?"
"Because we saw that Victoria was going after Bella again."
"You saw?" Charlie asked.
"My sister Alice is prescient."
Charlie mumbled something like 'holy fuck', then laughed in a very, very nervous way, the sound making the few birds on the tree tops scatter. "If she can see the future, then—"
"She can't see the entire future. She only sees the outcomes of choices, sometimes, with some people. It isn't precise, and it isn't reliable." He thought of the wolves. He should at least tell Charlie about them, but not yet. One thing at a time.
"So you came back because?"
"Victoria intended to turn Bella and have her kill her own children."
Charlie studied him, blinked, and then breathed out an, "Oh." His forgiveness for Edward was clear in his mind.
"Victoria also caused the car accident that killed Bella's husb . . . that killed Matt." It seemed too dismissive not to say the name of the man who had fathered his children.
"Damn." Charlie said softly, shaking his head. "So, that was when you came back to protect her."
"Yes."
Charlie nodded, turning, beginning to pace. His thinking mind was a frail thing at the moment, and it was struggling with his already-fading human memories. "So when I came to see you, you weren't blowing smoke up my ass about doing what was best for her."
"I was not."
Charlie jabbed a finger in Edward's direction, prodding the air, "You're not off the hook, and I still have questions."
"Of course." So long as they kept talking. So long as Charlie didn't do what he was thinking about doing. "You haven't asked about Jacob."
"And what the hell do I need to know about Jacob?"
Edward explained as simply as he could, trying not to overburden Charlie but needing him to have this information for the rest of this conversation. The treaty was now a moot point with Charlie's new state.
Still, it was this explanation that made Charlie finally sit, dropping his backside into the snow like his legs could no longer support him, as he dealt with the realization that his daughter had never, ever been insane. "When I began to suspect what I was, after . . . I wondered about her stories, but the werewolves, I thought they weren't real." His next thought caught him off guard and he looked up at Edward. "Sue?"
"She knew," Edward answered, knowing how much this next part would sting. "Her children are werewolves."
Charlie looked away again, processing this information and struggling with it. "She didn't tell me. Why wouldn't she tell me?"
Edward sighed. "She couldn't say anything without endangering her tribe. That was mostly Sam's fault, though. He would have taken it out on her children."
This last part was dangerously close to the edge of truth. It had only been a flicker of a thought on Sam's part, but given the man's odious attitude, Edward didn't doubt it was more true than he wanted to believe.
Charlie's head turned back and forth in a slow denial. His voice almost broke with emotion. "Was any of it true? Did she even love me?"
Had he been wrong to share this? Charlie's other thoughts were nudging toward the forefront of his mind. Edward wasn't convinced Charlie's last question had been for him but he knew the answer. "Yes, she did love you. She struggled with her decision, and she wanted to tell you." Edward could give him that, at least.
Charlie stopped asking questions for a while, at least aloud. Edward gave him his silence as his father-in-law sorted through what he wanted to know.
"Did she . . . was it Victoria that killed her?"
"Yes."
Charlie's hands pressed together, as if in prayer, and his eyes closed.
And while it was a prayer that Charlie was making, it was the ugly kind with which Edward was so very, very intimately familiar. He watched Bella's father lift his hands to cover his face.
"No," Edward said. He'd let this go far enough. The suicidal ideation was becoming precise. Very precise. And Charlie Swan had picked his method very, very carefully.
"It is selfish as a human, and it is even more selfish as one of our kind, what you propose to do." Edward's features felt hard with anger. What was this, a Swan family trait? There was altruism and self-sacrifice and then, there was this. If it didn't stab him with guilt to even entertain it, the notion that Bella was perhaps more unwell than he thought, might have taken root in his mind.
"She's safe. The children are safe." Charlie mumbled from behind his hands. His body was trembling with emotion. Edward caught a flash of annoyance from him as his father-in-law realized that he was not keeping any of this from Edward's ability, but Charlie quickly resigned himself. "I'm not. I'm not safe. If you can hear what I'm thinking then you know what I've done."
Edward's heart ached with empathy. "What most of us have done. Almost everyone in my family carries some burden like this, through choice or accident, or both. There is life beyond this. You have your daughter, your grandchildren."
But Edward's words might as well have been the unhindered water in the creek flowing past them. There were images to go with the thoughts. A location, a hold to the neck, threats and promises, teeth pressed to where there could be no mistake of intent. And Grant—his newborn instincts and strength would guarantee Charlie the outcome he so desperately wanted.
"Charlie, after you were taken, Bella was barely functioning and unable to care for her children. Do you want to do that to her again?"
Charlie closed his eyes, and the images began to fade, replaced by murky memories of Bella when Edward had left. But was it enough? Edward braced himself before he drew out his precisely chosen words—weapons of last resort.
"Victoria didn't abduct Bella, Charlie. Your daughter gave herself up to Victoria—herself and her child—because she thought there was a chance of rescuing you." It was at least one of the reasons, so it was true enough. "Because of that choice, she and Maddie nearly died . . . and I had to make Bella like us to save her. Will you let her sacrifice mean nothing?"
He heard Charlie inhale sharply. He was beginning to understand.
"You'll kill her, if you try to harm yourself." Edward continued, voice still firm. "She may not be physically gone, but that won't matter. Believe me, I know this. I . . . know it from both sides."
Charlie remained still, arms now hugging his knees. "I can't live with myself if I take another life, Edward."
"Then don't," Edward said gently, kneeling down beside him. "We'll all help you, but I believe you are stronger than you know."
Charlie made a scoffing sound. "Strong? I wasn't strong when she put that . . . woman in front of me."
Edward waited for the image in Charlie's head to fade before he spoke again. It appeared to him that the woman, and probably the others he had seen in Charlie's memories, had already been dead, or near enough, when Victoria had dropped them in front of him. but he could see why it would still haunt the man. They had still died on his behalf.
"Bella tells me that when you saw her in the cabin, she was bleeding. And yet, you shook off your guards and ran away. Is that what happened?"
Charlie nodded, remembering the event more clearly than Bella had. It made Edward grit his teeth now that he was reliving it with him, but he forced himself back to the present. Victoria had already paid. "Yes."
"You have no idea," Edward assured him, "how few newborns would be able to do that. You saved your daughter's life, and her child's. Don't tell me that you're not strong."
He could hear Charlie processing his words, wondering if Edward was being honest, considering for himself what he had been able to do. He was wavering in the face of this different view of himself.
"Charlie." Edward's voice was as gentle as he could make it. Bella's father turned to look at him as he continued. "You can't think what you're thinking. You can't think about suicide. It's . . ." He thought about how best to explain how instinct worked for his kind.
"I know." Again, Charlie's thought seemed to nudge its way into Edward's mind. Yes. He understood. Thoughts could become actions in the blink of an eye.
"Here," Edward said, pulling out his phone and finding the latest pictures of Josh and Meredith, and then of Madeline.
"God, she looks just like Bella did as a baby." Charlie's fingertip traced the curve of Maddie's cheek. Edward marvelled again at how much fine control he was already showing.
"And she will very likely look a great deal more like her mother as she grows, which we want you to see."
Charlie's other thoughts were fading, only echoes of possibilities. His mind remained weary, and his hope was brittle, but there was a low flame of it flickering in the dark. Now his newborn sense of unease was showing itself again, his instinct to move and to distance himself from another vampire coming to the fore. "Bella will be missing you," Charlie said.
"So long as Bella never has to miss you." Edward met his gaze, standing and holding out his hand, waiting for Charlie to accept his offer of help. He was pleased when Charlie returned his grasp.
"You told me once," Edward said, pulling Charlie to his feet, "that you would do everything you could to keep me from hurting your daughter. I will return that promise to you now. I'm asking you to give me your word you'll do whatever it takes to keep from hurting her, too."
Charlie nodded solemnly. "Alright, Edward."
With this seal on their agreement, Edward finally gave himself over to the force pulling on him like an invisible cord, drawing him inexorably back to the woman he loved.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.