Summary: Edward arrived at the mental institution and was reunited with Bella. Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper searched Forks for survivors and told the wolves Bella was dead. The Cullens met with the Denali coven while Laurent betrayed their whereabouts to the Volturi. The Volturi returned to Denali and took Bella, agreeing to let the Cullens accompany them to Volterra after some quick thinking on Bella's part. They arrived in Volterra and Bella met the other survivors, who were shocked and appalled when Edward entered. Edward later proposed at a romantic dinner. They were secretly married in a private ceremony. Bella had a very interesting doctor's appointment with Carlisle and was almost eaten by Felix. Aro summoned them and said that he would have to take Bella away from the Cullens, but Rosalie stopped him by proposing to trade the wolf pack for Bella. Bella and Edward argued over him not telling her about Jacob's continued existence, but Alice convinced her to forgive him.
Chapter 18 (BPOV)
"Can you set me down here?" I ask sheepishly, still clinging to Esme's back as she runs. She coasts slowly to a stop and sets me on my feet. Her warm, golden eyes show me her deep, motherly understanding, and I know that she will be more than happy to accommodate my request.
It was incredibly bizarre being here, though I have known it my entire life. After several years of simply visiting Forks, several more years avoiding it, and a little over a year of calling it my home, you'd think I would be used to the stormy weather and altogether dreary atmosphere. I remember sadly how I used to think of it as an alien planet; that thought was nothing to how it feels being here now. It feels painfully hollow; I wish fervently that things could go back to normal, that I was returning from the meadow with Edward while I contemplated what to cook Charlie for dinner.
After much pleading persuasion, the Volturi agreed to send me ahead with Esme, worrying that Edward might try to run away with me if they let him come. Our task is to find the wolves in La Push and attempt to persuade them to come quietly. Knowing Jacob, that is not going to happen, but I feel like I need this time alone in the place I had come to know as home.
"Is there any place you'd like me to take you, Bella?" Esme asks, her tone laced with maternal concern, "We could go anywhere you want and still talk to the wolves before the others get here."
"Yeah, actually," I reply determinedly, "I want to see Charlie."
Esme grimaces. "I don't know if that's a good idea," she says pityingly, "He's probably not in his very best shape right now. The disease did bad things, Bella, and I don't think you should see your father that way."
But I am resolved. "I want to see him," I assert, "I know that it won't be pretty, but I need . . . closure. Sometimes I feel like he's just going to walk in and ask me when dinner will be on the table, and I know that's not healthy. I think if I could just see him this one last time and say g-goodbye..." I begin to choke up a little at the end, and tears spring to my eyes like needles.
Esme smiles and wraps her arms around me in a comforting hug. Then she pulls away and suggests, "Perhaps we could hold a funeral. It would be short, small, and much less than your father deserved, but I know that he'd love it."
"That's a wonderful idea! But, where would we get a coffin? And we don't have a minister..."
"Don't worry, Bella, I'll take care of it. I've studied Christianity, so I'll be able to say a few words, I suppose. We don't really have much time to do this, but I think it will make you feel much better," she assures me.
Esme carries me to my old front yard and sets me down gently. She runs inside for just a few seconds before announcing that Charlie isn't here. I choke up again at the thought. "He would have wanted to die helping," I tell her hoarsely, "The townspeople are—were... I mean, he just cared so much..." I don't know if I'm going to make it through the funeral at this rate.
"He was a great man," Esme agrees. "Why don't you go look around your house while I find him?"
I nod, not sure of my ability to speak without sobbing. Esme sends me another small smile before dashing away into the trees. I approach the old house slowly at first, frightened of what I might find inside despite Esme's search. The yard is overgrown with weeds, and a window or two is cracked. I gulp back mucus as I reach the doorstep and remember the last time I was here.
It all started with a normal nightmare. I was alone in the woods, searching for someone I knew I would never find but could not bear to abandon as always, but then it changed. Several figures shot by me, their white skin luminescent in the light of the full moon. Countless blows began to befall me all over my body, the culprits disappearing before I could even look at them. Finally, a stone hand wrapped around me neck and I saw the face of my attacker: Edward. His normally golden orbs were the bloody crimson of a wilting rose, and his fangs gleamed in the moonlight against the backdrop of his red lips. He leaned in to inhale my scent, and a drop of blood escaped the corner of his mouth as he whispered, "So delicious..." Only to disappear, leaving me as deplorably alone as I had been before my angel had found me.
I awoke screaming as I always had, but this was not ordinary screaming. I cried out with the terror of one who had been cornered by death, the fury of a thousand violet flames, and the grief of a mere human lost in an empty world. Charlie burst in, alarmed by this new bout of terror, and tried frantically to calm me down, but no soothing whispers, panicked questions, or desperate ultimatums could quiet me. After a groan of defeat, he left the room. I was vaguely aware of him talking on the phone, but I was beyond reason. Soon one of his friends had come to help whisk me away to the place where I would stay indefinitely. At first I didn't realize what they were doing, but I fought back as soon as the word "hospital" had been thrown around a few times. They managed to carry me out of my room, down the stairs, and out the front door. I did not take the time to memorize how the house looked or smelled or felt, for I did not know that this would be the last time I would see it before the world changed forever. As Charlie and his friend carried me out to the police cruiser, Charlie's only mode of transportation, the only thing I really saw was the sky. The black abyss that was the night sky had returned, and I loathed it almost as much as I loathed the sun and its patronizing rays. That was the last memory I stored away of my home.
My pale fingers reach for the brass doorknob without much instruction from my brain. I hold tightly, but make no move to turn it. I take a moment to compose myself and take deep breaths. Maybe, I think as I squint my eyes shut, if I just think hard enough, everything will be okay inside. It's a pretty dream to imagine Charlie waiting inside wondering where dinner is, but the rational side of my brain, always the spoilsport, knows otherwise. Still, I do my best to visualize the perfect world.
I open the door slowly, noting the creaking sound the hinges make. Disappointment hits me, cold and hard, the moment the entryway is revealed to me. No lights are on. No baseball game is playing in the living room. No quiet voice calls out to ask me where I've been for the last month.
All is silent.
The scene I am met with brings fresh tears to my eyes. A lamp has fallen over. Mold is evident on the ceiling. The rotting corpse of a raccoon that somehow found its way inside reposes unnaturally at the bottom of the unused stairway, and the stench of death fills my nose. The carpet is soggy around the windows, which were left open. Everything else is as it would have been on a normal day, just covered in a layer of dust. The moment my gaze stops on a humble display of family photos, I flee up the stairs.
The familiar hallway looks like a horror movie swallowed it whole and spit it back out, making it as foreign and intimidating as I could have imagined. It seems longer, and without the electric lights, the only illumination is whatever leaks from the window in my room into the hall. Everything is as it should be, with my door hanging open and Charlie's shut tight. I will definitely not be going in there. It becomes too much at the sight of a lonely fishing pole propped up against the wall.
I peek into my room apprehensively, noting that it is perhaps the most and least eerie place in the entire house. It is as unnaturally clean as I left it, with no ornamentation to make it stand out as mine. The blankets on my bed are still twisted from my tossing and turning, leading me to conclude that Charlie probably could not bring himself to clean it up before the end.
What a terrible daughter I was! I hardly ever saw him before I moved here, reluctantly visiting Forks for the first several years of my life before throwing a fit and demanding that we meet in the middle; he must have thought that I didn't want to see him. Then I decided out of the blue that I wanted to come live with him, not out of desire for his companionship, but out of sacrifice for my mother. At first, I hated every minute I spent in this rainy town and did a poor job of hiding it. When Edward and I got together, Charlie suddenly had to worry about his little girl going out with boys, a stressful thing for any father, and spent every moment I could with my new boyfriend. Despite his loner personality, I could have spent more time with him. Watched a few more baseball games with him. Went fishing. Maybe told him I loved him just a few times more... But I didn't. Then Edward left, and I was suddenly a zombie. How terrible that must have been! Watching me waste away, listening to my screams at night, and being able to do nothing about it. I tried to be normal for Charlie, but I failed miserably. And now I will never be able to apologize.
I collapse to the ground in front of my door, hating myself. How could I have been so terrible to him?! I need to apologize, hug him, and tell him I love him more than he knew, certainly more than I showed. But I can't.
Esme finds me there, sobbing on the floor like a maniac. Her cold—though somehow warm— touch to my shoulder pulls me from the pits of self pity back into the real world. My limbs feel weak as I bring myself shakily to my feet. Esme smiles softly at me, her golden eyes showing me more compassion than an hour long monologue could convey. We exchange no words as she wraps her arm around my shoulders supportingly, scoops me up, and sprints at light speed to an unknown destination.
She sets me on my feet in a place I have been very few times in my life. The Forks Cemetery. Countless headstones, all in various stages of disrepair, some with dead bouquets or fake flowers beside them, cover the landscape. Something about this place drags the hysteria back up my throat.
I notice that I am standing in front of the only two headstones I'd ever really paid attention to here: Geoffrey and Helen Swan, Charlie's parents. They died before I started school, and Charlie didn't talk about them much, so I never knew them well, but I heard Renee talk about them. For about two years, she always made me call on the anniversary of their deaths, and I remembered when she forgot. That always seemed to cheer my dad up. At least know they'll be together...in Heaven.
The sad scene beside them makes my chest heave again with emotion. A simple wooden coffin lies open on the yellowed grass, and a foreboding, rectangular hole has been dug next to it. I break from Esme's embrace and walk at my own pace toward the coffin. Any attempt at a stoic mask I had made shatters the moment I see him, and my thoughts come in a churning vortex of observation, emotion, and instinct.
He looks so vulnerable, lying there by himself. Very different from the strong but humble man I knew. His arms have been placed across his chest as is customary for the burial of the dead for some unknown reason. Something about his stiff posture suggests that he is frightened, or was frightened, I suppose. I feel the almost unquenchable urge to protect him.
Esme had obviously taken great care to make him look his best, but even hours with Alice could not bring this man back from the dead. His hair has been combed back, his mustache straightened, and his suit is obviously new, or at the very least not what he has been wearing. Nothing is new any more. I notice the traces of makeup that have been applied to his face, and I wonder what could have happened to make that necessary. Then I remember from a morbid day in science class what happens to people's bodies when they die, and it suddenly makes sense; I feel ill at the thought.
How deplorably lonely this ceremony will be! Charlie deserves to have the whole town out here, remembering good times they'd had with their beloved Police Chief. Instead, all he has is me and Esme to put him to rest after a decent stretch of time lying dead who-knows-where. I bury my face in my hands and take deep, calming breaths in an attempt to chase away these thoughts.
"Bella," Esme reminds me softly, "We only have so much time..."
"You're right," I choke, "Let's get started."
Unfortunately, neither of us seem to have any idea how to conduct a funeral. The only one I'd ever been to was when Grandma Marie died, and that was a long time ago. Finding a bout of courage I didn't know I had somewhere deep inside of me, I take a deep breath and begin to speak, "Charlie was a great man. One of the best I've ever met. He deserves so much more than this—so much more. He was, uh, always helpful. He has always put others before himself. Instead of going to college he looked after his ailing parents." And where was I when my parents were dying? "He met my mother Renee, and fell madly in love with her. I didn't understand before how he could have fallen for her in such a short time...and how that love could have withstood years of separation after their divorce. Now I think I do. He loved my mother, he really did. The cupboards are still yellow..." I'm not making any sense now! I begin to blubber, unable to contain the emotion. "And he loved me too. I hated Forks, just like my mother did, at first. I whined and sulked all the time I was here, but he didn't hate me for it! I must have hurt him a thousand times, moping on fishing trips, demanding not to visit him in Forks any longer, allowing myself to become a shell of a person once I was here... But he still loved me! Anyone who can forgive that sort of behavior, and still love the transgressor, deserves more than just this little thing. That deserves a, I dunno, parade or something awesome like that! He cared about his work, he really did. He loved the people of Forks and did his damnedest to keep them them safe. That's how I know...that he would have wanted to help them. That, even in his last days and knowing that he too would die, he helped them. And that's how I know that he's... happy now. That he's not here, having to listen to my terrible speech, that he's in Heaven with his parents, and Renee, and Billy, and..." I fall to my knees before the coffin and clasp Charlie's dead hand. "That he—you—are happy now. Watching me right now, probably wishing I'd stop this blubbering." I try to laugh, but it comes out as an especially, choked sob. "But I need you to know this, Dad! I need you to know that I loved you too! I need you to know that I don't hate Forks, or fishing, or you, never you. Never you. I hope you found someone in Heaven. Someone to love you and care for you like I didn't. I hope sincerely that you found someone to love again, someone like Renee. I know how hard it is to lose someone like that, to feel like you weren't good enough. But you were good enough, more than good enough. Not a fool for loving, like Renee said sometimes. I know she loved you too." I feel small again, like a child. "I want you back, Dad. I know it's selfish of me, but I want you here. I wish I'd never left you. I should've been a good daughter, like you deserve, but I wasn't, and for that I am so eternally sorry. If I live forever—" I break off for a second, contemplating the irony in this promise. "If I live forever, I will always love you. Always."
I remain their, faithfully at my father's side for the last time, for an immeasurable amount of time. I choke out memories of him in between sobs, going on and on until I feel like I might not be able to speak any more. "Remember, when I was visiting you for the summer that first time, and you tried to teach me how to ride a bike? I told you I was too clumsy, but you didn't give up on me. You were so patient, and we kept working at it all day. After lunch, I was able to stay up on two wheels for the first time, and you were so proud. I was ecstatic. And you walked along side me as I rode until it was dark, just to keep that smile on my face," I whisper scratchily, "Well, I want you to know that I'm happy now. Edward and I are together again, as I'm sure you knew. He makes me happy, Dad. The thought of me marrying so young may be enough to make you turn in your grave, but I don't regret it. I only wish that you could have been there to walk me down the aisle."
Esme kneels down beside me after this. She wraps her arms around me and strokes my hair soothingly as I cry. "Bella, we have to go now. We're running out of time."
I nod and stand. I stare lovingly and longingly at Charlie's face one last time before whispering, "Good bye, Dad. I love you."
Author's note: Oh, how emotional! I hope you guys are happy with this; it might be the longest chapter yet. I'm a little nervous about how emotional it is, and I hope you all liked it. Please review, even if you hated it.
REVIEWERS GET TO SEE HOW ESME PUT TOGETHER THE FUNERAL IN HER POINT OF VIEW!