Disclaimer: All characters etc belong to Stephenie Meyer

A/N: Must say, I'm having a lot of fun with this story lol
It's my first fan-fic: I hope it isn't too shabby
Let me know what you think, perhaps points of improvement?


Broken Bells V

Renée had tickets booked for tomorrow morning, early, at eight. It was nearly six in the stormy evening when we decided to make a start on packing Bella's things. I followed her up the stairs, each step dragging with dread.

"Honey, we've got a flight for tomorrow," Renée said as we entered her room.

Bella ignored us. She was still beneath the duvet. The circles beneath her eyes had turned almost black. It stood out scarily against her pale skin. Her thin body had definitely lost weight. Her face was drained, dry and sallow.

"Charlie, where's her suitcase?" Renée whispered to me.

"Huh? Oh, right." I checked under her bed and found the bags she'd used to move all her stuff in. "Lets just pack her clothes; I can bring the rest of the stuff next weekend." It was a good excuse to go and visit too.

I pulled out the main suitcase as Renée opened up her wardrobe. We started folding clothes into it. Bella stared on, her body limp.

"How are we even going to get her to walk?" Renée fretted in a murmur.

"I'll carry her," What other option did we have?

I carried on with the clothes as Renée started looking around her room. I noticed her eyes linger over the old things: the rocking chair we used to sit in, watching baby Bella sleep, feeding her milk, the old yellow curtains, the pale blue walls, the old pictures hanging around the room…

I saw a sad look cross her face and I turned away gruffly.

"Hey, this is the scrapbook," Renée murmured.

I turned back to her and saw her leafing through the gift she'd given Bella. Confusion puckered her face as she noticed the missing pictures of a certain person.

"What are you doing?"

Renée and I jumped. We wheeled around to the cold voice.

Bella sat up in her bed, her face gaunt. Her bleak eyes flitted to the scrapbook, then the suitcase with her clothes in it. It seemed impossible, but her face whitened even more.

Renée and I looked at each other nervously.

"We told you, sweetheart," Renée said carefully, looking at me then back at Bella. "You're coming home, with me, to Florida."

Bella froze. "What?" she whispered through unmoving lips.

Her mother and I exchanged anxious looks.

"We think its best if you get away from here, start afresh," Renée said quickly, nearing her bed.

Bella's eyes zeroed in on the scrap book in Renée's hand.

It was silent for a heartbeat and then suddenly, Bella jumped out of bed in flash. She came and snatched the scrap book from Renée with violent fingers. Her expression was livid.

"You can't just take me!" She hissed. "Why are you packing my clothes?"

Renée and I had lost the will to speak. Bella was moving and talking. But she was incredibly angry.

"We told you, honey," Renée said uncertainly. "You're coming home with me."

"You can't just take me!" She exclaimed, her voice hoarse.

"Bella, honey," Renée reached for her but Bella slapped her hand away, taking an angry step back.

Renée's face paled.

"Bella, calm down," I said swiftly. "We just thought it would be best for you—"

"You don't know anything about me!" She shouted. "How dare you!"

Suddenly, Bella threw the scrap book aside and reached for her suitcase. She grabbed what she could and started throwing it back. Clothes started flying all over the room.

"You can't make me leave." She screamed. "I'm not leaving!"

"Bella, you've been in bed since Edwa—"

"SHUT UP!" She screeched, covering her ears. "I'm not leaving! You can't just d-decide things for me! You can't!"

I grabbed her hands. "Bella, please, listen to us! Getting away from here will do you good—"

"No, it won't!" She shouted in my face. I flinched back. "It doesn't matter where you take me! I don't want to go! I won't go!" Tears started seeping out of her enraged eyes. "I don't want to leave! You can't make me!" her fists thudded against my chest with each word. "I'm not leaving! I won't!"

"Bella," Renée hurried forward. "Please, listen to us. If you get away, you can forget everything and start afresh and—"

"I don't want to forget everything!" she screeched in Renée's face. "I don't want to move where the sun shines! I won't go!"

"Bella," Renée pleaded, "you haven't been sleeping or eating or talking—"

"I'll live in McDonalds then! I'll stuff myself every day in bed! I won't get up! I'll die a stupid, fat human!" She shrieked the last word and broke into a wordless cry, sinking at me feet, sobbing.

Renée and I stared at each other in horror. Tears were pouring down both of my girls' cheeks.

I crouched down to Bella's level. She was curled into a ball, crying for the world, shaking like mad. Her cries howled in the air; her body was convulsing.

"Bella," I whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't make me go, Dad," she sobbed, leaning into me. "I can't leave! I can't! I found… here…it all happened…"

I wrapped my arms around her dangerously frail body. "It's ok, Bella, its ok."

"I d-don't w-wa-want to go," she choked, "Let me stay, please."

I hugged her close. "But it might be good for you?" I whispered.

"No," she moaned. "It won't, please don't send me—" Her voice was swallowed by her cries. I'd never heard so much pain in a voice before, never.

I held Bella for a long while, Renée kneeled beside me. Bella's tears went on and on. Grief sang in the air and I kept my eyes clenched tight. It wouldn't do good to show any tears to her. I had to stay strong.

I don't think I'd ever hugged anyone for as long as I held Bella. But she just didn't seem to stop. It was like someone had died, not her boyfriend had left her. But I kept my mouth shut and held my baby girl.

It took a while for Bella to stop crying. When she did, she got up woozily, fumbled around for her wash bag and headed for the bathroom. Shocked, Renée and I went back downstairs. We sat in silence for a long while, trying to believe what had just happened.

I couldn't get to grips with the fact that Bella had literally had a break down. To go from being catatonic to crying for more then an hour… what had Edward done to my daughter? What would happen when she got out of the shower?

"Charlie, is this my fault?" Renée whispered.

I looked up to Renée. Her eyes were silently spilling with tears.

"What?"

"I should never have let her come here. Then she wouldn't have met Edward. I mean, what kind of a selfish mother—"

"Hey, hey, none of that," I said, heaving off the sofa and going to Renée's side. "No one is to blame except that stupid fool Edward. Why would you even say that?"

"She wouldn't l-let m-me t-touch h-her," Renée started sobbing.

I carefully put an arm around her. "She wasn't thinking straight. I'm sure if I had the scrap book, she would've been mad at me instead."

Renée shook her head, gulping. "Did you see the way she looked at me? She looked so angry, so—"

"Shh, shh," I said. "Renée, you're being silly. Bella loves you more then anything in the world. She's not feeling so good, you know. She'll be back to her old self, you watch."

Renée didn't look so convinced but her crying eased up with more reassurance. When we heard the bathroom door open, we both jumped up and hurried to the stairs.

"Bells, you ok?" I called.

We saw Bella come out and go straight to her room.

"L-let her get changed first," Renée said, biting her lip.

We went back and went into the kitchen. We had the pasta she had made at my small kitchen table. It felt so weird sitting across Renée in here. This was the kitchen she'd painted yellow herself, trying to bring colour into the house. She didn't know she brought colour in anyway. But that was then.

"Do you think we should go up and see her?" Renée suggested when we were finished doing dishes.

"Yeah, ok,"

We knocked on Bella's door and waited for a reply.

"Yes," A voice croaked from the other side.

Exchanging a worried look, Renée and I went in.

Bella was lying back on her bed. She was in her pyjamas, staring blankly up at the ceiling. She looked a little fresher, but her face was still dangerously pale. The dark circles beneath her eyes stood out even more now.

"Baby, are you ok?" Renée asked carefully, standing close besides me.

Bella answered after half a minute. "Yeah," She didn't stop looking at the ceiling.

"Would you like something to eat?" Renée asked.

"Mm," She said. It was neither an agreeing nor a disagreeing sound.

"Bells, I think you should eat." I said cautiously. "You haven't eaten for a whole week."

"Ok." She said quietly. Her voice had no emotion at all.

"Do you want us to bring the food up?" Renée asked.

"I'll eat that," Bella said almost inaudibly, sitting up. She got off the bed silently and got the plate from her desk.

"Its probably cold, let me warm it up for you?" Renée suggested, half-reaching for the plate.

Bella shrugged and gave the plate to Renée. She turned back for her bed.

"How about you come and eat downstairs?" I asked.

Bella shrugged again and followed us downstairs. We went down to the kitchen, almost like a procession. It was silent except the whir for the microwave as Renée heated Bella's food. Bella sat down at the table, her hands in her lap, staring at the table blankly.

I stood against the counter and watched as Renée gave Bella her food.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Renée said in a worried voice a minute later.

Bella's hand drifted up and picked up the fork. She pierced the pasta with little force and it went slowly into her mouth. She chewed a few times and swallowed. She carried on like that for a few minutes. Renée tittered around, cleaning up nothing.

A quarter of her food gone and Bella got up and dumped her food in the bin.

"Aren't you hungry?" Renée and I asked at the same time.

"No," Bella said quietly. "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

We didn't stop her as she moved, ghost-like, past us. We barely heard her quiet footsteps on the stairs or her door close.

I left Renée to call Phil and the airlines (she was changing the date for three days later) and went upstairs. I went and had a shower myself. The hot water did little to soothe my hectic nerves. I felt only a little better Bella had ate and spoke but the emptiness of her face and voice had me itching with worry.

I went back downstairs when I was done showering and changing. Renée was curled up on the sofa, her face thoughtful.

"I, er, changed the sheets for you." I said, sitting down on my chair.

"What sheets?" Renée asked.

"My bed sheets," I said, my face heating up a little. "Can't have you sleeping on the couch,"

"Charlie, you don't have to do that!" Renée said. "I'll be fine on the sofa."

"Don't worry about me, I can handle a few days on the couch."

Renée rolled her eyes: she resembled Bella when she did that. "Don't be so macho."

I knew I was old, but chivalry still lived on in me. "Renée, do I need to handcuff you to the bed—" I stopped short. My eyes nearly dropped out. "I didn't mean—I'm sorry—"

Renée burst into laughter.

I sat, shame-faced, for a good few minutes as Renée carried on laughing. Eventually, she managed to calm down, still chuckling.

"It's all right, Chief, you don't need to use that much force on me." She snickered. "But I'll take the bed, thanks."

"Good, right." I paused. "I'm going to go check on Bella, coming?" I said, standing up. I was still hot around the neck.

"Ok," she was abruptly nervous.

We went up and I knocked softly on Bella's door. She didn't answer so I opened the door a crack. The room was pitch-black so I edged it open a little. We saw Bella's pale face peeking out from beneath the duvet. Her eyes were closed.

I closed the door and said goodnight to Renée as she went into my room—our old room. I sighed and opened the cupboard up, grabbed a heavy blanket, a pillow and trooped downstairs.

The sofa was too short for me: I'd give myself a real back ache if I slept on it. I lay the blankets on the floor and settled in.

This is why I rarely had guests sleep over. I missed my bed.

I wondered whether Bells was really asleep. Poor thing, she looked so devastated. Her expression hadn't really changed since the shower: it still looked crushed, empty.

I'd never seen her cry like that. The last time I remembered her crying was probably when she was younger. She'd never even had such a fit like that before. The last time she'd screamed like that was probably when she was a little kid, complaining about playing with Billy's daughter. Point was I'd never seen her cry so much. I'd never witnessed anyone in so much pain.

But then I had: me. So many years ago, I'd been the one to break when Renée left with Bella. How could it be that my baby girl was feeling the same? I didn't want her to feel like that.

When I woke up in the morning, my back was slightly sore. I grumbled a bit before I staggered up. I picked my things up and stumbled, half-asleep up the stairs. I folded everything away into the cupboard, my eyes barely open.

I went to check on Bella. I opened her door very slowly and peeked through.

A little smile spread on my lips.

Bella was curled up besides Renée, who had her arms tight around her.

I eased back out and headed for my bedroom. I flopped onto the bed and was asleep again in seconds.

I was woken too soon.

"… Charlie! Charlie!"

"Ugh!" I pushed away the hands that were shaking me.

"Charlie Swan, get up!"

I reluctantly opened my eyes to Renée.

"C'mon, rise and shine, Chief Swan. It's almost eleven."

I rolled onto my stomach.

"I'm making breakfast, be down soon." She called over her shoulder as she left.

When I was clean and decent, I went down to the kitchen. Bella was down there too, seated at the table. She was chewing her toast slowly, staring blankly at the table again.

I got myself cereal and sat down at the table. "Morning, Bells," I said as brightly as I could.

Bella eventually looked up at me. "Morning, Dad," She said in a quiet voice. She looked back down and took a sip of her juice.

I exchanged an uncomfortable look with Renée before I dug into my cereal. There was little conversation, just Renée talking about some of the kids she taught. She was never one to sit still and sit in silence. That was a trait I had given to Bella. But our daughter was too silent, too still.

When her breakfast was finished, Bella took her dishes to the sink. She ignored Renée's request to wash them and did it herself. I wondered whether or not she'd heard her mom at all. When Bella was done, she sloped past and headed back upstairs.

"You slept in Bella's room?" I asked a little while later.

Renée took Bella's seat and started fiddling with her breakfast. "Yes," She bit down on her lip. "She started screaming in the middle of the night."

"What?"

"It was a nightmare," She said. "She had a small crying jag and fell asleep through it."

"A nightmare," I repeated. I'd never heard Bella scream of a nightmare before. I knew she talked in her sleep but screaming? "Did she tell you what it was about?"

Renée shook her head. "I'm thinking it was to do with Edward," she said quietly. "But she wouldn't say what it was, so I didn't press her. I didn't want to upset her,"

I nodded.

"You know, I think we should talk to her about moving to Jacksonville." Renée said. "Maybe now she's awake and talking,"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess we should." I swirled my spoon in the bowl. Just imagining Bella leaving to go live back with Renée made me feel like… crap.

"Shall we go up and see her?" Renée asked when we were both done eating.

"Yep, let's go."

We went up the stairs together: I think it was the only thing we'd done so much together.

Renée knocked on Bella's door softly. "Bella, honey, can we come in?" she called.

"Yes," Bella called back a few moments later.

We went in. Bella was laying on her bed, curled up on her side again, arms wrapped around her torso. I froze: this was the way she'd been all last week.

"Bells, you ok?" I asked, taking a step towards her.

"Yes," she said quietly, her eyes momentarily flickering to me.

I exhaled with small relief and sat down by Renée.

"Bella, we want to talk to you about moving… to Jacksonville." Renée said slowly, carefully.

Bella went rigid.

"It's just a possibility, I mean, if you want a change, it might do you good." Renée said quickly.

"I-I don't want to go." Bella said with more emotion in her voice then I'd heard in the past week.

"But maybe you can, you know, start again?"

"I've got… school and work," she fumbled for more reasons, sitting up. "If I leave, it'll ruin everything. I can't go, Mom, I won't. I mean, Dad needs me." Her jaw was locked.

"Bella, I did look after myself before you came and lived here," I mumbled.

Renée threw me a small smile.

"Dad, I can't go. Please, I want to stay here. I have to." She pleaded.

"But Bella, if this is about Ed—"

"I promise I'll be good!" She cut hurriedly in before I could finish. "I swear you won't have any trouble from me, Dad." Her eyes started welling up.

"Hey, hey, come here, come here," I wrapped an arm around Bella, squeezing her shaking body. "You can stay, Bella. I'm sorry; we just thought it might be good for you."

"I can't go," she whispered. "I can't."