Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I didn't think everyone would be so invested in what's going on with Charlie, but you guys have been so... here's how Charlie's doing. Be warned, this is a sad one. But I'm particularly proud of this chapter so, hope you guys enjoy it!

I also saw the suggestion to use Ronan by Taylor Swift as a part of the story, it felt wrong to do that considering it's about a real person, but I was listening to it a lot while working on this chapter, and there are some Ronan references in this chapter. I think it helps capture the sadness that Charlie is feeling right now. Another good one to listen to Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift. Both incredibly sad, but I think fit this chapter to a 't'.

CHPOV

I was sitting in the kitchen alone, like I used to before Bella moved to Forks. But this time everything was different. I knew that I would never be the same, time wouldn't heal this wound. When she died, she took a piece of my heart with her. As I looked out the window, I started thinking about how my life had gone downhill so quickly, how quickly I had lost the best part of me, how I lost Bella.

"I'm going to call Renee," and I walked out of that damned hospital room, I just didn't want Bella to see me cry. It wasn't even for some masculinity-type act, but I didn't want to make her hurt anymore. She had too many years of hurt.

I sped over to a quiet hallway nearby. It felt like I couldn't breathe. The tears were streaming down my face already. This wasn't right. 18 years was too short for Bella. This world needed Bella in it, what would it- what would we do without her? I leaned against the wall, my knees felt like they were giving out. I let my self slide down the wall onto the floor. I couldn't hold back the choked sobs anymore. It all hurt too much.

"Charlie." It was Carlisle.

I sighed and took a deep breath, but I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. No amount of cliches, words, or apologies would make any of this okay. I would listen to whatever Carlisle offered, but it wouldn't change anything. To my surprise, he didn't say anything. He just sat on the floor with me. I couldn't even imagine what we looked like, two grown men sitting on the floor of the hospital. When it felt like I could contain the meltdown, I stood up. I had to deliver the worst news a mother could ever receive, our little girl had no time left, there were no more miracles for her.

I had been calling her each day, trying to paint a nice picture for her, but also trying to tell her the seriousness of the situation. It was a tough task, but each day I called her with an update, even when there were no updates.

I took one last deep breath before calling her.

"Hi, Charlie."

"Renee, um," I wasn't sure how to say this, but I knew it needed to come from me.

"What? What happened, Charlie?"

"This is it, Renee," the sob broke through again. I heard a clattering on the other line, "Renee?"

There was no reply for a minute. I could hear Phil's faint voice in the background.

"Charlie, what happened? Is Bella alright?" It was Phil. I didn't know the guy very well, just from our brief encounters at Bella's previous hospitalizations. But I knew he loved Bella.

"Phil, you, um... need to get down here. It's not good," I swallowed the knot that was forming in my throat. The phone call was over pretty quickly after Phil promised he would get Renee down here as soon as possible.

I spent the rest of the day at the hospital.

On the drive home, it hit me all over again. The blind hope, the wishing for miracles it was all over. I parked in the driveway, normally Bella's truck was there, but it was gone.

Reality kept washing over me again and again, like I was drowning in the hopelessness of the situation. I was alone, so I didn't hold back the anger and the sadness I felt. I screamed 'why' at the top of my lungs, the sobs that came from me didn't even sound human, an animalistic sound of pain, nothing like I had even heard. It was all overwhelming me.

Carlisle called me on the day of her birthday, that she would be going home. When he called, I held my breath and hoped that this wasn't 'the call', and I sighed in relief when it wasn't. I saw her that evening, despite everything she was still so happy. I laughed as she told me how Alice had ambushed her with a birthday party, and how she was glad that we were the same personality-wise, she could count on me to keep things small, the way she liked. I didn't agree, Bella's personality was so much brighter than mine, when she laughed, it made everyone want to laugh with her, rooms seemed brighter when she smiled. She's just a better person than me.

That last night was so clear to me.

"Happy birthday, Bella. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. Never forget that," she whispered. And I held her in my arms and kissed the top of her head for the very last time.

And then the next day, I could hear tires pulling up on the driveway, at first I thought it was Bella.

But the second I saw Alice and the look on her face, I knew.

Flowers were still piling up in the worst way possible, when Sue was over here she usually threw the ones that were wilting away. I couldn't bring myself to do anything to them, to touch them, to move them, to throw them out. It all hurt too much.

I made my way past all of the flowers, careful not to trip on them, and went to bed.

Each morning I walked by her bedroom with the door shut, I had closed it after her funeral.

I couldn't believe that it had been a month since her funeral. They had given me time when Bella was in the hospital, but bereavement leave was only seven days. It was completely laughable, seven days when I had just lost my flesh and blood. My little girl, who would never get the chance to grow up, to go to college, who didn't even get to graduate with her class.

They didn't really need me there, and they took every chance to keep me home. When I was at the station alone, it provided a much needed distraction. When I was surrounded by people, it was too obvious. No one really knew what to say, and I understood, because what could you say? So instead of saying anything, everyone sent flowers, or dropped off food, sent me cards with cliches that made me want to set the card on fire.

This morning was different, I stopped right in front of her door. I wanted her to be in there, I would give anything for one last morning with her. Just so I could know it was my last morning, I could hug her tighter, hear her laugh one last time, watch her stare out the window in the kitchen, just one last time.

As I opened the door the delusional part of me hoped to see Bella there, and it was just as quickly crushed to find an empty bedroom. Her purple comforter that she would never again use, the desk she would never write on again. She had left behind a few shirts that were still hanging in her closet, I reached over and grabbed one. It still smelled like her. I liked it in here, and as I sat on her bed, it was almost like she was sitting right there next to me. Like she was still holding my hand, and telling me everything would be okay. I wanted her to be squeezing my hand again, being in her room it was almost like she was. I left my palm facing up, like she would come and hold it just one last time.

"Bella?"

No response.

"I know this is dumb, but I'm not a rational man anymore, and I just wanted to talk to you. To know you're okay. Wherever you are, I hope you're okay. That you're not alone," the sobs started again.

I felt and saw Bella everywhere. The shampoo bottle she would never finish, the Pop-Tart box with just one left. I had never been a sentimental person, but now I wanted to hold on to these things, the way I wanted to hold onto Bella.

I thought about the first time she had pneumonia. She was still living in Phoenix, and they had just stopped her last round of chemo. As soon as Renee told me she had caught an infection, I was on the first plane out. I never said anything about Renee not being there for Bella this last time. I knew it broke her heart that she would never see Bella again, that the last time she had seen her was her last time without knowing it.

That was the thing with having a sick kid, you never knew when the last good-bye or good-night was the last one. Each night, I walked into her room to make sure she was still breathing. To make sure that night wouldn't be the last good night.

In Phoenix, Renee and I took turns telling her that she would get better soon. We could hear how hard it was for her to keep breathing, and we listened to each breath hoping it wouldn't be her last. It got so bad that the doctors asked if there was anything else we wanted to say to her, we should do it now. Renee told her it was okay to let go. I told her that as soon as she got better I'd take her out of this stupid hospital and go wherever she wanted. Each time I saw her laying in a hospital bed, I wanted to take her away from all of it. Just run away. Anywhere as long as she made it through.

Even then I wanted to believe there was a chance that she would get better, and when she did, it just reaffirmed my faith that some miracle would see us through.

And now I was standing in her closet, sitting on her bed, on her old rocking chair, just trying to talk to her.

Sue found me sitting in Bella's room. She was here so often that she used the key under the eave.

"Charlie? Are you alright?" Sue asked.

I nodded. I put the shirt I had clutched to my chest back down. We made our way downstairs, and I stopped in front of the small mantle, it had pictures of Bella from over the years. Sue had framed the poem Bella had given us, and every time I walked past it I reread it wanting there to be something new, another message from Bella. Some sign that she was still here.

I had brought in another chair into the kitchen. I didn't want anyone sitting in Bella's chair. I think Sue knew that because she never tried to sit in Bella's chair.

"Charlie?"

I lifted my head. I guess she had been trying to talk to me, but I was too lost in my own thoughts.

"Are you alright?" She asked again. The real answer was no, of course not. I was pretty sure that had been Bella's real answer too, but she never said it, so I didn't either.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"What are you thinking about?" I was getting a little annoyed with everyone around me, I didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't talk about it, it felt like there had been a hole punched in my heart, and talking about it made it that much more noticeable. But I remembered the promise I made to Bella, so I fought the urge to push everyone away.

"That week," I didn't need to explain more than that, Sue knew what I was talking about. The week that ended the best 18 years of my life. The 18 years I had Bella.

"What about it?"

I shrugged, "All of it."

Sue nodded, but waited for me to keep talking, I didn't like dumping all of this on her, she had just lost Harry. I told her that right at the very beginning. She stopped me, and told me that, while it was very painful losing her husband, there was no greater pain than losing a child. I didn't verbally agree, but I knew it was true, there would be no greater pain than this.

"I was thinking about that day when Carlisle told me she wouldn't make it...I just thought there would be one last saving grace, that some miracle would see us through, delusional right?" I chuckled humorlessly, trying to keep the emotion under control.

"You're not delusional, Charlie."

"Really because I was just upstairs in her room, trying to talk to her," I snapped. It took me a minute to get my head back on, "Sorry."

"It's alright, Charlie," she took a deep breath and thought about her next words, "But maybe, the miracle was getting those 18 years with her."

I knew she was trying to help, but there weren't any wise words that would mend the missing piece of me.