So... This has been a very difficult chapter to write. I was tearing up, I can't lie. Not sure if it's actually as sad as I feel it is! Probably not to be honest! Thanks at the bottom. After a terrible week, I managed to shatter my phone, so motivation to write sad Carys was weak!
Chapter 5
Mid-November
"Coffee before you go?"
"You read my mind," Carys told Charlie, smiling tiredly.
He was hovering by the entrance to the living room and had posed the question to her when she was halfway through twisting her scarf around her neck, so she unwound it and shrugged off her coat before she followed him through to his kitchen.
It had been six weeks since the Cullens had left Forks, and whilst Carys had been coping well, at least from the outside, Bella hadn't.
Carys' promises that at least one of the Cullens would one day be returning to Forks, and that she wasn't going anywhere, had fallen on seemingly deaf ears. Carys had slowly come to wonder whether it was that Bella didn't want to hear it, or that she couldn't hear it.
That Bella couldn't hear anything; that she couldn't register anything; that all that was left of her was a shell.
Bella sat alone in her room, day after day, staring at her bedroom window, never moving unless she had to, not eating, not sleeping, not talking, not hearing. She'd missed school for a week at the beginning, and then when she'd gone back she'd done the same at there as she did at home.
Charlie had already had to endure two calls about Bella's sudden decline in grades.
It scared Carys. Rocked her to the core every time she saw her in that state. It had been six weeks, and if anything, Carys' visit that day had shown that Bella wasn't improving - she was getting worse.
Carys tried to keep the worst of the worry from her face when she sat down at the kitchen table.
When Charlie almost immediately dropped a steaming cup of coffee down in front of her, Carys knew he'd been waiting for her to come down so he could talk to her. She wasn't sure what it was he wanted to speak about, but she expected it was to do with the worsening state of his daughter.
He'd already thanked her for the pasta bake she'd brought with her, Even if he hadn't, it didn't require a sit down over coffee.
So, when Charlie glanced up at the floor above, sighed heavily, and led with, "She's getting worse," Carys was anything but surprised.
"Yeah, she definitely is...," Carys murmured. Half a minute later, when the silence between them had stretched a little too long, she shifted in her seat and asked, "Is she still screaming?"
Bella could sleep, which was more than Carys could most nights, but she had nightmares. Nightmares that woke Charlie up almost every night to the sound of his daughter screaming her lungs out.
So far, Carys was the only person he'd confided in about it - and that was only because Bella had woken herself from an exhausted nap in that manner when Carys had been visiting once.
Charlie had sworn her to absolute secrecy, and Bella didn't nap anymore.
Carys wasn't sure which was worse - the nights where Charlie said she'd eventually wake up sobbing uncontrollably, or the ones when he couldn't wake her at all, and she'd scream herself hoarse before curling deeper into the fetal position and finally falling back into a restless slumber.
Charlie slumped into the chair opposite Carys and fiddled with the handle of his mug.
"Yeah," he said through a deep breath. "Yeah, it's bad." He stared at her for a few seconds, and then added the inevitable question, "Does Carlisle know why...?"
"No." Carys shook her head and pursed her lips. Charlie knew by now that her reaction wasn't from the question but from the lack of an answer to give.
Carlisle knew as little about what had happened between Edward and Bella before he'd left as they did, and he was just as concerned. Edward hadn't provided an answer before he'd decided to go off on his own to avoid further scrutiny, and Bella wasn't talking. The zombie-like depressive state she had fallen into... It was shattering. Some part of her had died in the forest that day.
Alice, their last hope, was either as ignorant as the rest of them, or was protecting Edward.
Carys truly hoped it was the former.
The day Edward had broken up with Bella, half of Forks and La Push had searched for hours before Sam Uley had eventually found her lying in an almost comatose state on the forest floor and brought her home to Charlie.
Alice and Jasper's continued refusal to go against Edward's wishes and return to Forks, despite now knowing about Bella's reaction had quickly become a source of tension between Carlisle and themselves.
Their relationship with Carys had become far more cut and dry after Alice had called to explain that "Edward thinks she'll get over him more easily if we're not there to remind her.".
As long as they refused to come back, or to contact Bella and potentially give her some solace, Carys refused contact with them.
Most days, she wondered if she wasn't cutting off her nose to spite her face, but then she'd lay in bed and stare at the ceiling for hours, listening to the wind and rain lashing her window, and her disappointment in them would rise again. Carys didn't know what she'd say to them if they spoke, and she didn't want to make things harder for Carlisle by starting an out and out argument.
The one thing she couldn't get past, and often chose not to think about because it hurt too badly, was that they'd left her as much as Bella. Perhaps more so.
Carys could understand Alice's loyalty and Jasper's guilt, but she couldn't understand why they were so misplaced in this. Carlisle couldn't come back without either Alice or Edward, and Alice was blinded by her attachment to her brother over the rest of her family. Which meant Carlisle couldn't come back. Which left Carys heartbroken for the loss of her family. And left Bella's condition unchanged.
Carys knew she'd not followed after them, either, but it wasn't the same in her eyes. Not following after her family when they left her in an impossible situation was different. Even if she changed her mind and gave up her life, there was no way she could leave when Bella remained the way she did. She wouldn't be responsible for adding to her pain. If, of course, she actually knew Carys was there in the first place.
Edward, Carys didn't even want to think about. He still made her too angry.
"No," Carys added again, staring absentmindedly into the corner of the room. "He's trying, but-"
"Edward went to stay with his sister," Charlie confirmed, yet again. "Esme, right?"
Carys nodded slowly and stared down at her mug instead, turning it around and around in her hands. That was the story she'd given. The story Carlisle had given when he'd left the hospital, that she'd embellished - that Carlisle (and therefore the family) had had to leave because of a family member who desperately needed his help, and Edward had gone to stay with his sister to finish high school rather than taking online classes with Alice.
Not all of it was a lie, but it didn't stop Carys hating herself each time she told it. Maybe that was why Bella refused to talk to her either. She knew.
After a few seconds, Carys took a deep breath and looked up at Charlie. He was still staring at the table, a pained expression on his face.
"She's still not eating?"
Charlie shook his head. "Barely enough to keep her going," he confirmed, closing his eyes briefly. "I don't know how long I can let her keep going like this."
"You're thinking Phoenix again?" Carys asked, hunching over her mug. It wasn't the first time he'd suggested it. Bella was utterly broken and slipping further. She needed to get better. She needed to have a chance to heal.
"Yeah." Charlie sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Maybe she just needs to get out of here for a bit, you know?"
Away from the reminders, Carys thought, nodding slowly.
Charlie barely glanced at her before he sighed and closed his eyes again. "Uh." He shook himself and met her gaze head-on. "Sorry, um... Bella's not-uh... This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about," he admitted slowly.
Carys raised her eyebrows and drew back, sitting straighter in her chair. "Well... Is everything else okay? I mean..." Carys wanted to add: "What's going on? Do I need to add another person to my kill list, besides Edward?" but instead, after a pause, she said, "What's going on? D'you need me to stay with her for a night? So you can get some rest?"
Charlie smiled. Briefly. It threw the deep circles under his eyes into stark relief, making him appear older than he was. Then he shook his head again and took a deep draught of his coffee.
"No, I-uh... I guess I got the short straw on this one..."
"Okay, you're worrying me a bit." Carys joked. Half-joked. "Did she tell you why she was screaming?" she added, seriously, when he didn't reply.
"No, no, nothing like that," Charlie finally replied, returning his mug to the table and staring down into the dark liquid. He took his coffee like Carys - black, but unlike her, he preferred it unsweetened. "I... uh, Sarah, Monica, Richard, and I, we wanted to talk to you about something."
"Oh, how is Richard?"
Carys had only seen him in passing when he'd come back to Forks the week before to collect the last bits and pieces he'd been storing at Sarah's, but he'd seemed well, just keen to get back on the road before it got dark. It surprised her a little that he'd been included in the group. They'd become closer again over the summer before he'd left for Seattle, but only so far as they were sort of friends, and they hadn't spoken too much since he'd moved.
"He's fine. He likes Seattle so far, but he likes his job more. Lots of travelling."
"Is he already being sent off?"
"About-" Charlie broke off and briefly closed his eyes in exasperation and took another sip. "See, this is exactly why we wanted to talk to you, and why... Well, I ended up with the short straw."
Carys felt her brows ascend to her hairline. "Talking to me is a short straw?" She asked, unable to control the hurt in her tone or face. Her hands tightened around her mug despite the heat it gave off.
Carys had been spending just as much time with her friends as she had before Carlisle had left... Maybe a little more, if she really thought about it.
Was that the problem?
Did they want to see less of her?
Was she taking up too much of their time?
Was she annoying Charlie by visiting Bella so often?
Charlie shook his head and sighed again. Carys wondered sometimes if he didn't spend half his time sighing for one reason or another, and she almost wished she had the confidence to go around sighing at people as he did. It seemed freeing, in an odd sort of way.
"No, this-" Charlie waved a hand in her direction and then rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation already. "-this. You're damn good at deflection."
"Deflection...," Carys mused, narrowing her eyes in confusion.
"You're always asking after everyone else," Charlie explained hesitantly. "Every time we ask how you're doing, you say you're fine, and next thing we know, we're talking about our problems, not yours. You come here a couple of times a week at times, and you bring food, or you sit with Bella, but... Uh." Charlie continued to sound as awkward as he looked. "You're looking after yourself too, right?"
"I..." Carys felt her heart rate increase; her eyes widened infinitesimally, and her stomach tied in knots. She wasn't ready to have this conversation - especially not with someone who had enough on his plate already. "Of course, I am."
"Are you?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Carys repeated around her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth.
"Really?"
"Yeah, Charlie, how many times do I have to say it?" Carys laughed, defensively. "Sorry," she added quietly, and then took a gulp of her coffee.
"Right."
Charlie stood from his chair, and Carys watched as he began to search through the faded yellow cabinets lining one of the walls of the kitchen. First, he fetched a couple of tumblers. Next, he reached for the top shelf of another cabinet, felt around at the back, and retrieved the bottle of whiskey she and a few others at the hospital had put in for to mark his birthday at the start of March. Unscrewing the almost full bottle, he returned to the table and set the tumblers down between them so he could pour a large measure in each glass, and slid one in front of her.
Carys took a tentative sip of the amber liquid after they clinked glasses, then pulled back and stared at it, impressed. It was good. Smooth. She supposed it should have been, considering they'd chipped in $20 each, but it was still nice to know.
"Thank you," she said, returning her glass to the table.
Charlie merely nodded and made an inarticulate sound in response, taking a small sip of his own before considering his glass.
"I prefer beer, but this one's good. Now. How are you really?" Charlie asked again, his brown eyes assessing her.
When Carys responded in the same vein, of her being absolutely fine, he sighed again, called her "Kid," shook his head, took another sip, waited a minute or two, and asked again. And then reacted similarly to the repeated answer.
Carys was three small sips in, to his four, when he stared at her again and she felt her resolve crumble.
She wanted to talk about how she felt, but it was just too hard to justify her feelings to herself sometimes, and she was as afraid of putting too much on Charlie as she was that in telling someone, she might not be able to hide it anymore.
"Shit," she whispered, abandoning the whiskey to lift her coffee mug to her lips. Speaking around the rim before she gulped the hot liquid, she added, "I feel like shit." Tears sprang to her eyes in reaction to her words, and her throat tightened, making it harder to swallow the warm drink.
Charlie leaned back in his chair and dropped an arm over the back. "Of course you do," he told her simply, drawing circles on the table with his glass.
"Was it that obvious?" Carys asked, covering the tremor in her voice by running her hand over her hair and flipping it to one side. Then, thinking better of it when it got stuck halfway, she returned her mug to the table and switched hands to flip it back into place and check for stray curls. "I thought I was hiding it better."
"You were," Charlie told her, shrugging. He glanced at the ceiling again, and then returned to his own coffee, as Carys had.
Carys hunched over her mug again and supported her head with her free hand, whispering, "But you all noticed, so I can't've been that good."
"It's only been six weeks, Carys," Charlie reminded her carefully. He ran his hand over his neck again and rested his elbows on the table. "There's no way you're doing okay. Even if he's coming back. I guess you were doing too good. Too... Cheerful."
"But I am fine," Carys whispered slowly, fighting tears. "That's the worst part. I am fine. Every day, I go to work, and it's fine-" Carys let out a sharp breath and flashed a watery grin when Charlie looked more than a little disbelieving that she'd said "fine" and "work" in the same sentence. "I like my job, I do, I just... Yeah, well, you know. Sandra. Anyway. Where... Yeah, so it's fine. And then I hang out with you guys," she told him, gesturing, and dropping back in her chair, "and I have fun. And when I try to talk to Bella, it's not fine, but..." Carys trailed off when her voice was lost to a whine, and bit her lip until she could blink back her tears and shrug. "Overall, I'm fine, just..."
"Just...?" Charlie prompted.
"Just that. It's fine. I'm fine. Every day is fine."
"Okay... And when you get home?"
Carys hated that they were having this conversation, even more, when her chin trembled and her brow furrowed. "It's shit," she repeated, drawing out the word.
"How?"
"I really shouldn't-you're dealing with so much. You don't need another person crying all over your kitchen," Carys dismissed, swiping her palm over her cheek to catch a stray tear.
Charlie wasn't having any of it. "Look, you're hurting," he argued, staring at her with his eyebrows raised whilst he picked up his mug. "You need to vent. Vent."
"How'd you-damn-" Carys cursed when another tear slid down her cheek, and she had to wipe it away. "How'd you end up with the short straw?"
"No," Charlie reminded her, raising his index finger. "No deflecting. Just let it out. It's fine, but then it's shit. How?"
"It's like, I'm fine in the day, but... But then." Carys gasped, and wrapped her arms around herself, avoiding Charlie's gaze. Her heart hurt too much to see the pity or frustration she imagined she would find there when she continued. "Then I get home, and it's too empty, and I miss him... I'm sorry this is ridiculous," she complained, turning her head. "I'm ridiculous."
"It's not, and neither are you," Charlie countered, leaning forward. Carys was so surprised when she glanced at him, she had to double-take. There was no pity or frustration, only understanding. "How bad is it?"
"He hasn't left. He's coming back."
Charlie raised his eyebrows and downed the last of his coffee. "It's not just Carlisle though, is it? But we'll pretend it is. Even if he's coming back, it doesn't mean you don't get to be sad. So let it out. This," he added, gesturing around the room. "This whole thing? Judgement-free zone."
"How are you always so nice?" Carys choked on a sob, knowing exactly why he'd been elected the person to talk to her. She didn't deserve Charlie - she didn't think anyone really did, but they were lucky to have him.
Charlie flashed a conspiratorial smile. "It's the moustache. Gives me powers," he told her sagely, making her chuckle again, despite herself.
Carys gathered her thoughts for a minute or two, and was grateful when Charlie stayed stoically silent opposite.
"You mentioned how I bring food over? But... It's not as selfless as you think. It's not, Charlie," she added when he scoffed. "I tell myself I'm being kind, and helping you, but really... I'm just trying to force myself to eat something by cooking way too much... And-and-and I go to bed," she whimpered, unable to stop once she'd started, much like the tears falling unchecked down her face. "And I can't sleep because I'm too used to him being there. And we talk every night, but it's not the same, you know? It's just... It feels wrong.
"I miss... I miss him. It's like... I just... When it's just me, I'm so lonely? And it makes no sense, because I like being alone, I've always liked it, but now I miss being alone with him. We can be doing our own thing but it's... I just miss him now."
"I miss the way he helps me sleep by reading from these really boring textbooks because I got too interested in the medical journals he used to read... And I miss how smart he is, but the way he never makes me feel dumb, you know? And how thoughtful he is? Like... Like, sometimes, if I'm in pain, he just gets me hot water bottles before I wake up. Not one, two. And every day, without fail, he wakes me up with a cup of coffee. And now I keep forgetting to set my bloody alarm, because he's always up early, you know?"
Charlie was clearly uncomfortable with her sobbing, Carys could tell, but she could also see that it came from being unable to work out how to comfort her, and it wasn't so bad.
"We always talk before bed," Carys continued. "And we do that still, but it's really not the same? It's the little-the little things. They're the worst. Like, we always talk in the mirror when I'm doing my moisturiser, and I know it's dumb, but I miss it. It's so small and insignificant, but I really do, you know? More than the big things.
"It's like... I have my life, and I have my friends, and I'm happy, and I'm fine, but he's not there when I'm putting on my moisturiser, and that's the thing that makes me cry? And it's so stupid because I know he's coming home next year, I do. But I miss him. So much. And I just want a hug. But I don't want a hug from anyone else."
Carys inhaled through tight lungs, and sat up, sniffing and wiping away her tears, recomposing herself. When she was satisfied she could speak without crying again, she studied her cooled coffee and drained it to the dregs. "It's not like he's gone forever or anything."
"You can know someone's coming back and still miss him like crazy," Charlie insisted softly. "Have you... You know, have you told Carlisle any of this?"
Carys shook her head. "He's got so much to worry about already," she explained. "That-oh god, that... That's the worst part. I know how he'd be if I told him. He'd be so upset."
"Or ask you to follow him?"
"No, no, that's not Carlisle," Carys informed him, shaking her head and drawing her sleeves down over her hands. "I'm too selfish to go after him, and he knows that."
"You?" Charlie practically laughed out loud. "You? You're selfish?"
Carys blinked, thrown out of her self-pity by his reaction. "He'd be coming back alone. For me. Because I don't want to leave, and he doesn't want me to."
"He's a grown man," Charlie advised, sighing yet again. "You're a grown woman. You both have a life here - it's not selfish for you to stay, and it's not selfless for him to be coming back someday."
"But he'd worry," Carys protested. "Even if he didn't come back, he'd worry. And he'd get upset. And-"
"You think he isn't worried or upset now?"
"No... I know he is, but I..." Carys trailed off, unable to tell Charlie what she wanted to. It was one thing to tell him how much she missed Carlisle, but it almost felt like a betrayal of sorts if she was to tell him how much she worried about him.
It occupied her thoughts for hours at a time when she lay in bed, wearing one of his shirts, trying to get to sleep. She worried about him. She wondered who else worried about him when he was the one they relied upon so much, and she wished she could fall asleep, so she could wake up and hold him and tell him to close his eyes and relax when he was mentally exhausted in the middle of the night. But she knew just as painfully that if she did, he wouldn't be there.
That morning, she'd woken up and realised that the bruises under his eyes would be dark if he was sticking to a normal hunting schedule, and she'd cried because she'd rolled over to check, and he wasn't there. And then she'd gone downstairs and made herself upset again because she'd been so lost in her thoughts, she'd automatically made him a cup of coffee as well.
She felt ridiculous.
And she hated that he might be lonely too. She hated even more that she knew he was missing her as much as she was missing him.
But all they could do when they talked on the phone (when they weren't discussing Bella, or his children, or Esme) was to revert to the way they'd been before they'd started spending their nights together. They kept the worst of it back. They made each other laugh, or talked about books, or films, or the local gossip, or how Sandra's comments had taken on a distinct implication of "I told you so" since he'd left.
"Kid..." Charlie cut through her thoughts, the sides of his mouth tipped up in a faint smile. "What you're feeling is normal. When you love someone, it shouldn't be a question of if you can live without them, it should be: do you want to?"
Carys stared at him, unsure of how to reply. He was rarely talkative perse, but when he was, it was usually when he was about to impart great wisdom, so when he sat up and brushed at his moustache as he had when he'd begun speaking, people listened. They hung on his every word, more like.
"When you build a life with someone," he continued, "and you find the person who makes you happy to go home - who thinks about you in the same way you think about them, it becomes the best part of your day. Knowing you don't have to act for anyone, and you can just be yourself. Knowing they love and appreciate you. The real you. That's the sort of thing that hurts the worst when it's gone - if they're coming back or not. Why do you think so many songs are written about it? 'Cause it hurts like hell. "
Carys laughed when he finished, a short, wistful sound that she couldn't quite place the origin of. "You're being strangely insightful, Charlie," she told him. wondering if he was referencing another person in addition to his ex-wife, Bella's mum, Renee. Somehow she thought there was more to it. The way he spoke...
"Yeah, well. Don't get used to it." Charlie grunted, embarrassed at his pronouncement. "Just... You should just know that-uh, it's valid. What you're feeling. And you don't have to try and sort out Sarah and Monica's issues, or try and help me and Bella if you're not feeling up to it. We can get on. And... Yeah, well, I can't say much about Sandra, she's not really changed since school. But don't hide it away. Don't bottle it up."
"You think I should tell Carlisle how much I miss him, don't you?" Carys asked when Charlie finally glanced up from the table and met her eye again. "Like, all of it."
"That's up to you, but Carlisle's a good man." Charlie shrugged. "And he's doing the same thing." Taking the hint of Carys' confused frown, he added, "The whole distracting himself thing. Half the doctors at the hospital've got him on speed dial."
Carys' jaw dropped. "He's consulting!? That bloody..."
"Good man? Yeah, he is. And you're a good woman too." Charlie cleared his throat and eyed the fridge, clearly in need of another drink after his comment.
"Go get a beer," Carys sighed, then grinned and refilled her glass when he slid the bottle towards her. Sighing at people was as much fun as she thought it would be. "Charlie...," she began after a moment, drawing out his name.
"No," Charlie groaned, returning to the table with a beer and a bottle opener, reading the direction of her thoughts. "This isn't an emotional show and tell. We're done now. Drink your scotch, and walk home." Holding his beer to his lips, he added under his breath, "Wouldn't want to have to impound that fancy new car of yours."
A slow grin eased Carys' features, and somehow, before she knew it, she was chuckling, then laughing. And when she started, no matter how hard she tried to muffle the sound with her hand, she couldn't stop.
Charlie was trying his best not to join her when Bella slowly and quietly shuffled into the room a few minutes later. They stopped instantly and watched her as she made her way across to the cupboard, blind to their presence despite their greetings, and took down a glass. After she'd filled it at the tap, she left in much the same way, as if each step physically pained her.
A shiver ran through Carys when she met Charlie's eye and saw her worry and guilt reflected back at her. Bella was little more than a ghost, and she'd been laughing.
A/N:
Thank you to everyone who's reviewed - I'm amazed at the response! I'm going to PM responses now. Thanks to chellekathrynnn, strawberryfruitsnaxs, DxGRAYxMAN, marylopez0812, CarlaPA, Ella (he is! Very Edward thing to do. I suppose it could be seen as Carlisle's compassionate nature being a negative there. I think the fact Alice went with Edward left him with no choice though - if his only two school-aged adopted kids disappeared suddenly, there would be too many questions for him to stay. Imma go tear up now! Haha), Lady Jensen, GuestMG (ahhh, you're about two chapters ahead of yourself, but it's not who you think... I have so many problems with Edward and how he treats people at the moment - both in the books and this!), souverian, Claire (I know! Poor Carys and Carlisle!), Moi (Carys is in my head nodding along, as am I - he definitely doesn't act his age at all! Either of them! And not long to go - if all goes well, 10 chapters? But don't hold me to that if it's a little longer. And thank you - I felt like it would have more impact that way - I'm glad you appreciated it!), TDI-Ryro-Eclares, Adela (so do I!), ASimpleTeenager, McGonagill1996, GhostWriter71, LizzyB (thank you!), Love. Fiction. 2020, and Anita Simons!
