Hello everyone! Thank you for being so patient! But I am back with a fresh chapter! I had this idea of writing from an outsiders perspective so I hope you enjoy. I want to upload more so hopefully the ideas start flowing! Also, thank you for those who have found my story and have decided to favorite and review! It means so much and I'm so glad this makes your Jacob and Bella hearts happy!

Also, I found this great Etsy shop that sells amazing Twilight stickers I recently purchased La Push stickers from this Etsy shop and the proceeds go to the Quileute Tribe's Move to higher Ground Project! The stickers are lovely the seller is so kind! She also released La Push Prints! Please check them out!

Etsy dot com / shop/studioanj (it wouldn't let me write it any other way lol. Just remove the spaces)

Song of the Chapter:
Backyard by Natasha Bedingfield (literally I listened to her music as a 12 year old and lived my best life)

Story is mine, characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.

Enjoy!

Children

Charlie POV

They thought I never saw them. I always did. They were about as subtle as any two teenagers could be. I may be old but I wasn't senile. I have enough years under my belt to know what the hell is going on. Except with that Cullen kid. He was too damn sneaky. Something was always off about him. I couldn't put my finger on it. And maybe I was better off not knowing what he was up to. If I could go back in time, I would have done things differently. Put my foot down. Asked more questions. Spent more time with her. Got to know him better. His family seemed nice enough. However, that was all straight bull. Seeing your own child turn into a shell of a person was one of the most difficult things a parent could witness. It took everything in me not to run his plates and turn my gun on to that son of a bitch. As much as I hate how much she suffered, things were better off this way. He would never step foot in the doorway again. I will guard my girl with my life to make sure I never see her in that place again. She deserves better. And now I think she is finally letting herself have it.

The sparse days I spent with her during her childhood, I saw how much she was like me. Stubborn, shy, and as pale as can be. She had her own way about her. How in the hell she put up with Renee is beyond me. That scatter brain couldn't separate her own daughter's doctor appointments from her recitals. Not that it mattered, but I had my calendars filled with each appointment, teacher conference, ceremony, and recital. If it weren't for me, she would have missed all of them and yet I was never there for any of it. But I always made sure to call her to tell her that I was thinking of her when she won student of the month, or when she had to get that tooth pulled, or when she fell during her Swan Lake performance. Of course those calls were nothing but a bunch of quiet mumbling and awkward silence but that was my connection to her. I never admitted it, but her first night back a year ago, I blubbered like a baby. I couldn't believe how much she had grown since her last visit. Her 17 year old form highlighted every moment in her life that I only got to witness through my calendar. It wasn't a rare thing to see her a few inches taller, hair a little longer, and voice a little more different, with each visit. I expected it. But seeing my little girl, knowing how much I didn't get to experience with her and knowing I'll never get those days back, well it hurt like a bitch.

But the days when I did get to have her home, those were some of the best memories I have. Now, I never claimed to be the most fun dad out there. I knew I was pretty dang boring. Luckily, she was so much like me she didn't really seem to care. And if she did, she never said so. I just assumed she was getting a break from the fast pace of her mother. At least, that's what I told myself. But even so, I did what I could. I would watch her quietly blow bubbles in her chocolate milk, color carefully inside the lines of her coloring book, and struggle to pronounce the big words in her books. I would make sure to carefully clean and bandage her cuts and hold her tiny hand as we walked about to make sure she didn't trip over her laces. Once she outgrew Velcro, I invested in a big, fancy first-aid kit. Boy did I get my money's worth.

I did my best when it came to her clothes and hair. I tried my best to keep her dressed according to the weather but that often ended up with her looking like a marshmallow or with her shivering with a chapped nose. And most likely she wore orange with green, blue with yellow, plaid with flower patterns, and mismatched socks. I usually didn't even notice until we made it out to the Black's house and Sarah would scold me on my picks of the day. After spending a day over there, she would come home with fancy braids and rosy cheeks. Glowing like the sweet child she was. Those days I could tell she was the happiest. Not only did I get a bit of a break of watching over her every move, but she got to spend time with kids her own age and maybe a little younger, in some cases.

She first met him when she was two years old. He was just a baby. I remember the look on her little face when she saw the stirring little boy in Sarah's arms. Her big eyes sparkled at the sight of a little baby. She would watch him eat and nap and pet his hand when he cried. I thought this was strange since the twins and Leah ran away, covering their ears. And when he first laid eyes on the little girl watching him, he didn't look away. She tried to shake a rattle at him only for him to grip her little hands instead.

She was five when she finally got to play with him. She would skip around with her fresh braids, clutching her current favorite book, and of course trip over her two left feet. He would toddle over, squat down, and try to help her up. And if she got up on her own, he would cry. Once that happened, she always took his help, even if it wasn't much. It wasn't so hard since he was always two steps behind her at all times.

Once he started to notice that she came around only a few times a year, things got rough for the Black's. As soon as he was able, he would ask where in the hell she was. Maybe not in those words but close enough. They couldn't even say her name around him unless they wanted a moping child staring out at the street waiting for her to return. According to Billy, he started to blow bubbles in his milk, and had perfectly colored pages taped all over his bedroom walls.

By the time he was six, it was safe to say that this boy had it bad. The adults often joked he had a crush before he even knew what that meant. Thanks to his debonair father, he would pick soggy dandelions from the yard and hand them over to my unsuspecting little girl. The other girls laughed at her and told her they were ugly. But, she would just smile with red cheeks and tuck the flowers in her books. Poor kid couldn't let him down easy. At that time she saw him as a friend and nothing more. But to him, she might as well have been the most beautiful thing on the planet. And maybe to him she was. Of course, she was beautiful, she was my child. But, his eyes basically burst out hearts when she walked into the room. At that age it was pretty darn cute, but then puberty came.

He was never a bad looking kid. He definitely took after his mother, no offense to Billy. But, once he hit the age of 12, the game changed. She turned 14 and she was starting to notice boys even if she never said it. She would blush more often when we passed by boys her age in the supermarket, or when I asked her about her friends at school. Unfortunately for me, boys noticed her too. I have never been more thankful to walk around with a badge and a gun than I was at that point in time.

She was 14 the last time she saw him. And let's just say they were no longer kids, and they noticed. She blushed beet red when we went over the Black's house that autumn afternoon. We were joining them for Thanksgiving. She laid eyes on him. He looked taller, hair longer, and definitely not a little boy any more. His voice was only a little bit deeper and he dressed in the baggy clothes of a teenager. And I think she noticed how much older he looked for his age. Hell, I could tell he was gonna pass me up in just a few short years. She nervously adjusted her sweater and could barely look him in the eye which was now level with hers. The time before this she had seen him when he was still the runt of the family. And it was obvious how that was very quickly changing. I caught the look he gave her when we walked in. Instead of shooting hearts out of his eyes, he was now eyeing her. She was not a little girl anymore and he noticed. I very quickly learned that he was to be treated like any other boy that wanted a shot at my daughter. I gave him the stern cop look and he didn't go near her for the rest of the night.

She barely touched her food and same for him, despite Billy's complaints of his son's bottomless pit. Her blush remained on her face the whole time and the adults noticed the amount of times he tried to casually look over at her. Her eyes continued to stare at the pile of corn on her plate. The girls thankfully talked to my tomato-faced daughter throughout the night about their latest magazines and clothes and she seemed to relax, but just barely. She made sure to never look over at his side of the table. He did try to start a conversation with her about school, a safe choice. But, she just stuttered through her response and didn't try to continue the conversation. Poor kid looked devastated that he couldn't have the attention of the girl he's crushed on for pretty much his whole life. And she never returned after that until that day when she was 17 years old.

This is the point in time where I sprouted more gray hairs than I would like to admit. People don't know stress until they've had a teenage daughter. Once that Cullen kid entered her life, she floated around as if nothing else existed. Once he walked into a room, she only had eyes for him. She hardly ever spoke of, asked about, or noticed Jacob during this time. Of course, being the observant father I was, he would casually orbit around her in some way. Once he laid eyes on 17 year old Bella, he truly only saw her. It was obvious how much he had the hots for her, but learned to be much more subtle about it. He picked up the charisma of his father and soon could put my nervous daughter as ease. Thank god for that because the poor girl needs someone to balance her out, and he does just that.

When Cullen exited out her life, in the most disastrous way possible, she was the one who actually found her way to Jacob. After a day with him she would come home with life in her eyes and rosy cheeks. Glowing like the young lady she is and deserves to be. As much as I want guard her heart and kill any boy that dares to come within 100 miles of it, Jacob has only returned her to me with a smile on her face. Something Cullen never did. With him, she came home expressionless and fidgety. Secretive. I didn't like it one bit. Now, things were different.

I watched as she gently rubbed flour on his cheeks with a big smile on her face in the kitchen. Jacob was too far lost in her gaze to even notice what she was doing until it was too late. And they thought I couldn't see but they clearly forget I'm a cop and have eyes like a hawk, especially with boys around my daughter. Jacob grinned like an idiot as he flicked water from the faucet at her and she laughed like a smitten little girl.

I shook my head. They better hurry up with dinner. After years of eating alone in front of my tv, I look forward to every one of Bella's meals. With Jacob in the kitchen, who knows what concoction will be on my plate this evening. But, I can't complain. I'd eat all the tofu and vegetables they served as long as he kept that smile on her face.

Thanks for reading! Who knew writing in Charlie's POV is so fun lol! He's such a good dad :')

I hope you enjoyed! And please check out the La Push Stickers! Link is in the beginning of the chapter!

If you have any situations you would like me to write please let me know!

Catch you in the next one!