Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns everything in the Twiverse.

Chapter 35: Charlie

Bella's POV

The cleansing relief I felt while holding on to Edward completely dissolved at his last word.

"Barely?" The implications were too numerous and ominous to comprehend. So I started with the worst. "Is he…changing?"

"No," Edward set me on the ground. "He was not bitten."

Thank God! Not that I wouldn't have preferred immortality to death. But as Charlie was clueless about the mythological world surrounding us, I would not have wanted that life forced upon him.

"So if he's not changing, what's happening to him?"

"Let's return to the mansion," Emmett said, "and Edward can explain on the way."

I shook my head. "I won't be able to hear him while we're running."

"You're right," Edward took my hands. "So for now, I'm afraid it has to be one or the other. I can either explain everything now, or we can get you home and I will tell you then."

He presented the options as if there were any real choice, and I stifled a flare of annoyance. But his eyes were guileless as he gazed at me, so I decided not to make an issue of it.

I climbed onto his back. "Let's go."

As Edward raced through the forest toward the Cullen mansion, my mind used the time to reassemble itself. And I was astounded by the number of missing pieces. Although I had cheated death, I had no idea when or how Victoria died. Charlie's medical condition was a huge mystery, as was how he had avoided being bitten. Then there was the Tanya and Irina situation, and the realization that Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett had not abandoned me after all.

But louder and stronger than all of these musings was something else, a question so terrible I couldn't even bring myself to voice it:

Would Edward have killed me had I not stopped him at the last minute?

I knew he only prepared to end my life because I decided to die. I knew in doing so, he was honoring his promise to always respect my wishes...no matter how much he might hate them.

But for all of that logic, for all of my gratification that he didn't make me defend my choice, I could not quell the anger and disappointment surging in my heart when I reflected on what had almost happened:

Edward had been willing to end my life for my father's sake after spending so many months refusing to do it for ours.

And in my frazzled mind, that fact could not be reconciled.

When I pulled out of my thoughts, we had come to a complete stop. I opened my eyes to find us in the empty Cullen living room. "Where is everyone?"

"Esme and Rosalie are out in the field," Edward said as I climbed off his back. "They're awaiting instructions on what to do next."

"Next?" I looked around. The space was unchanged since New Years' Eve, but everything seemed irrevocably different.

"There are a few decisions to be made," Edward added.

"Like?"

"Like whether we should keep Charlie here."

"He's here?" I whipped my head to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We just arrived," Edward pointed out.

I ignored that. "Let me see him."

"Of course." Carlisle appeared at the top of the stairs. "Come with me."

I stepped around Edward and walked toward the steps, hearing his sigh as I avoided his attempt to hold my hand. I wasn't trying to be mean, but with my life no longer in immediate danger, my emotions were catching up to me. And until I knew for certain the answer to my most pressing question, touching Edward was the last thing on my mind.

I climbed the stairs and found Carlisle outside of the room next to his study. I hadn't been in here since the night when he extracted the glass fragments from my arm, and I shuddered at the memory.

"I'm sorry." Carlisle wrapped his paternal arms around me. His apology could have covered any number of things, but I wasn't in the humor to figure out which. So I let him hold me without resisting. He either sensed my ambivalence or received some sort of cue from Edward because he soon released me. "Your father is in here."

I swallowed hard as I stepped toward the door, noticing the light creeping from below. Even from under the door, it seemed too bright to be comfortable for human eyes.

I reached for the doorknob. "Is he awake?"

There was a too-long pause during which I looked up at Carlisle, his eyes confirming I'd hit upon something important. "He's resting," he replied.

My hand released the knob, and I exhaled loudly. With everything I'd survived, I couldn't handle any more surprises. And as much as I needed to see Charlie, I had a greater need for answers.

"What happened?" I asked whoever felt qualified to answer.

Another pause ensued as my husband and father-in-law silently debated with each other. I stifled a long roll of my eyes as I wondered for the umpteenth time why it was so hard for them to be honest with me.

"Edward." My tone was flat with impatience.

His voice reached me from behind as I was facing the door. "What Tanya revealed in the meadow was true," he began. "Victoria sent her to kidnap Charlie and hold him hostage to force you to choose between your life and his. Tanya went along with the plot only to save her sister and never had any intention of hurting Charlie."

I turned to glare at him. "Are you defending her?"

"I am answering your question," he replied with admirable calm. I was testing his patience with my attitude, and the thought pleased me. He'd held my life in his hands today and nearly crushed it to pieces. I had every right to be hostile.

"Tanya had no intention of harming Charlie," he resumed as I folded my arms. "So once he pulled up to her car, she waited for him to get out and chloroformed him." I closed my eyes with a grimace as the scene played behind my lids. "After knocking him out, Tanya eventually carried Charlie to the cavern hidden high in the mountains where Victoria wanted him stashed."

"Why didn't Tanya show us any of this beforehand?" I felt sorry for her as she begged for my forgiveness in the field. But this retelling of events showed me several different points at which she could have tipped us off. "She couldn't have given Alice a clue and told her not to react?"

"When have you ever known Alice not to react to anything?" Edward replied. "Besides, Victoria had Tanya so fearful for Irina's life that..."

"How did Charlie get hurt?" I interrupted, not wanting to hear him defend her again.

"Victoria expected us to find her around noon. But when we hadn't arrived and she didn't smell us near the field, she suspected a double-cross on Tanya's part. She surprised Tanya in the mountains and demanded to see Charlie. Satisfied at the sight of Charlie's motionless body, Victoria was leaving when a wind blew through the cave and hit her with a strong whiff of Charlie's scent."

I flinched, imagining the worst, and Edward paused. Then I recalled Charlie hadn't been bitten, and I relaxed. Somewhat.

"Tanya threw herself in front of Charlie to catch the impact of Victoria's attack. The crashing sound echoed in the cave, and Charlie woke up. The unfamiliar surroundings and strange sights and sounds sent him into a panic, and his heart pumped faster, sending more blood through his veins. By now, Victoria was insane with thirst, screaming, 'Mine!' at the top of her lungs."

"Oh my god," I whimpered, letting Edward hold me as I envisioned my disoriented father staring into a pair of wild, crimson eyes. Charlie had always represented quiet strength to me, and the idea of him at the mercy of someone—something—as crazy as Victoria threatened to snap the final thread of my sanity.

"Victoria was thrashing against Tanya," Edward continued, "desperate to get to Charlie. But as the strongest of the Denali sisters, Tanya held her off. Victoria must have realized she was overmatched, so she changed tactics."

I stepped away from him. "What does that mean?"

"Victoria offered Tanya a new deal." Edward dropped his hands as if stung by my withdrawal. "If Tanya would give up Charlie, she would release Irina."

My mouth dropped open, then I became confused. "Tanya said in the field Irina was still a hostage."

Edward nodded. "Tanya turned her down."

"But I thought the whole point was to save Irina."

"It was," Edward said. "But not at your father's fatal expense."

I closed my eyes as my heart clenched. At the news of Charlie being hurt, my anger rekindled against Tanya and all that she could have and should have done to protect him. Knowing she rejected an offer to save Irina to spare my father was more than I could handle.

"What happened next?"

"Victoria suspected more sabotage on Tanya's part and demanded to know why she would reject the chance to save her sister. Tanya misled Victoria by saying if Charlie died, Alice would know immediately. And if that happened, you would have no reason to play her little game and she would lose her chance to avenge James' death.

"At the mention of James, Victoria sobered but still didn't believe her, convinced that if she killed Charlie, we'd hunt her down and she would get her revenge. But Tanya rebutted that as much as you loved Charlie, nothing was more important to you than…than being with me."

His eyes clouded with sadness, and I saw the pain my standoffishness was causing. I felt the urge to reach for his hands, but I stuffed mine in my pockets and stared at the floor.

"The more Tanya talked, the more Victoria realized she needed Charlie alive, and she decided to leave him alone. But before she left, she crawled to where he lay on the ground, bared her teeth, and licked his neck. 'You would have been delicious,' she said, then fled the cave.

"Charlie's eyes widened at her cold tongue and chilling words, and Tanya tried to reassure him once Victoria was gone. But Charlie was silent as Tanya spoke to him. And when she took a step toward him, his eyes widened and he passed out. She tried to rouse him, but Victoria beckoned her to follow, and she was…"

I turned away from Edward and walked past Carlisle to push the door open. And when I entered the large blue room, my eyes were drawn to the standard-issue hospital bed in its center.

And the very familiar occupant in it.

I ran to my father's side as tears slid down my face, gripping his hand as I stared into his open, brown eyes. "Oh, Charlie!" His name slipped out as my considerable relief washed over my cheeks, but I didn't think he'd mind under the circumstances. "Thank God you're alive!"

Charlie stared at me for a very long time, and I let him study me as I tried to compose myself. I slumped onto the waiting stool and smiled at him, unspeakably grateful to see his handsome face again.

But as I looked into his eyes, I wondered why he didn't react to my presence. And after one full minute, I realized he hadn't blinked.

Not once.

"Dad?"

I waved my hand in front of his face, and he didn't flinch or move.

"Dad!"

I snapped my fingers and raised my voice, clapped and shouted his name, and there was still no response. I clenched my hands into fists to stop myself from shaking his shoulders and turned to find Carlisle and Edward inside the room. I scanned their faces and found nothing to comfort me.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's in shock," Carlisle explained. "The knowledge that his life was in danger must have been difficult to process. But," his eyes softened, "Victoria's argument with Tanya yielded the more frightening truth that your life was at risk. Combining those two things with Victoria's bizarre last words must have sent him over the psychological edge."

"So…is he brain dead?"

"No." I felt Edward's presence behind me, and he reached forward to hold my hand as Carlisle continued. "His brain activity is fine, and his circulatory system is functioning normally."

My voice was breaking. "Then why can't he see me?"

"It is as if his mind has shut down to protect itself," Edward whispered against my hair. "Once he's ready to deal with what he h experienced, he will come back."

I turned to face him. "And when will that be?"

"These things take time." Carlisle's platitude only made me feel worse. "Charlie has been through a lot in the past two days, and he needs to…"

"Two days? I thought Tanya snatched him on New Years' Day."

Carlisle glanced at Edward who replied, "It seems Tanya lied about that."

"What the…" I bit off an expletive. "Why?"

"Irina didn't want to hurt Charlie," Edward said a third time. "Once she arrived in Forks and realized what she had to do, she balked. She told Victoria she grabbed Charlie on New Years' Day when in fact she didn't take him until yesterday morning."

"Yesterday?"

"Most likely while we were preparing for school." He rubbed my shoulders. "Victoria wanted him in danger for as long as possible, but Tanya feared his human body couldn't handle two days and nights in a cold cave without food or water. She kidnapped him yesterday morning, and when night fell, she kept the car running all night to keep him warm, wracking her brain for another way out. That's why we found her scent in so many different places. She would leave the car, hoping some unsuspecting motorist would find it and take the situation out of her hands. But knowing Victoria would not accept failure, she returned each time for her sister's sake. Before dawn, she ran Charlie up to the mountain and waited for Victoria to arrive in Forks."

"So Victoria just got here?"

Edward nodded. "She wanted to secure the element of surprise."

I glanced at Charlie again, unsuccessfully willing him to blink. "Why couldn't you smell Charlie's trail if Tanya ran him from the cruiser?"

"The rain," Carlisle said. "There was a strong but brief storm this morning that washed away any usable trace of Charlie's scent."

I rubbed my eyes. "I'd like some time alone with my dad."

"Of course," Carlisle bowed. "I'll go check on Esme."

I nodded absently, not understanding what he meant, and noticed he didn't close the door. I scooted forward on the stool, slipping from Edward's embrace as I took my father's hands.

Edward let me go and waited a beat before kissing the top of my head. "I'll be right outside."

I didn't respond, and he didn't say anything else. As soon as I heard the soft click of the door, I collapsed onto Charlie's chest, saturating him with a downpour of gratitude, guilt, and grief. I cried for him, for myself, and for a host of things I couldn't even describe, feeling as if I would never stop.

Eventually the pounding of my head forced my eyes dry, and I wiped my face with my shirtsleeve. It was then I noticed the hand towel slung over the headboard.

"Guess they knew I would need this." I patted Charlie's damp chest with the towel, hoping to sop up some of the moisture, and realized he was wearing a long-sleeved thermal shirt.

"Trying to be fancy, huh? Did Esme give you this? The color brings out your eyes."

A few more tears snuck out at the mention of his eyes, but I clamped mine shut to keep the next shower at bay. I did my best with the towel, but as soon as I could, I would ask for a new shirt.

Did Esme change your clothes? I laid my palm against his clammy cheek. I hope it was Carlisle. I can only imagine how embarrassed you'd be if you woke up and discovered Esme had a look at your bare chest.

The thoughts echoed in my mind, and I corrected myself.

When you wake up. WHEN.

I stroked my father's cheek and looked out the window, the last bit of the harrowing afternoon beginning to fade. It would be dark soon, and the good people of Forks would make dinner, do homework, and catch up on the day's events with their loved ones.

Yet despite the arduous ordeal my father had survived, the only people who would miss him tonight were beside him in this makeshift hospital room. The townsfolk appreciated Chief Swan's dedication to their safety, and if they learned something had happened to him, the visiting crowds would overwhelm even Esme's gift of hospitality.

But in their private moments when all was right in their world, the welfare of Chief Swan seldom crossed their minds.

I dabbed the towel against Charlie's chest. This man—this strong, amusing, faithful man—was alone in the world with no woman to love him but me. And though Charlie was a bachelor by choice, that stubborn fact seemed incredibly unfair.

Not that I begrudged Renee her happiness. She made the choice to leave my father before I'd been given a vote, and she'd made the right decision. My childhood may have been odd, but I could not have imagined how bitter and unhappy it would have been had they stayed together. She also made the choice to avail herself to love, usually with less than stellar results before Phil came along.

In that department, Charlie had been resistant, to put it mildly. He'd often given the impression that he was stuck on my mom, but after living with him for more than a year, I knew better. Like most men set in their ways, Charlie was leery of messes, specifically those involving the fairer sex.

My mind flashed back to my first night in Forks after my run-in with James. The words I had spoken to Charlie before slamming the door still hovered in the room, but neither of us knew how to address them. I had been propped up on the couch while he was buried in the armchair. He must have cleared his throat a dozen times before finally broaching the subject.

"About what happened before…"

What little color I had drained from my face. "Ah, Dad. I really need to…"

"You can talk to me about anything," he interrupted. "Anything at all. But don't raise your voice and slam my doors. Your feelings are welcome, but I cannot take the hysterics."

I agreed with gusto and prepared to continue my apologies when he turned away and picked up the remote. "I'm sure there's some Meryl Streep movie on somewhere."

At the time, I'd thought him too lenient and wary of discussing it out of fear that I'd leave again. And although such was possible, his greatest concern was that I might want to talk about it: Mom, marriage, love, Forks, Edward. And he would rather watch a week-long, chick-flick marathon than discuss matters of the heart.

Even the two pictures of Renee on the mantle were less about her than they were a reminder of what had happened the one time he'd given himself over to such emotional intimacy. He didn't regret me; I knew that. But the idea of casting his romantic lot after such a disastrous first outing had scared him into a life of lonely inaction. He had his sports, his work, his fishing, his beer, and for the past several months, his daughter. And as far as he could tell, that was enough.

But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough for a man as wonderful as my dad. And knowing that as I moved on with my married life, my father would be alone in that house eating a fish-dinner-for-one broke what was left of my heart. I fell onto Charlie's chest and wept again, grieving for the man who'd asked for so little in life and gotten exactly that.

—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o—

I must have fallen asleep, for the next time I looked out of the window, the sun was gone and a new moon hung in its place. I was not on the stool next to the bed but curled in an armchair from the living room, the cashmere throw from our basement bedroom covering me. A glance toward the hospital bed revealed Charlie's eyes were still open and sightless, but he wore a Seahawks sweatshirt I recognized.

I sat up and stretched, the stiffness in my body no match for the tension in my mind. My feet hit the ground, and I noticed the warm, thick pair of purple socks for the first time. The wall clock said it was almost eleven, and my stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten in ten hours.

I was about to fold the blanket and go hunting in the kitchen when I noticed the round end table to the right of my chair. On it was a tray with a turkey BLT, a bowl of tomato soup, and glasses of both milk and apple juice. Judging by the steam rising from the soup, the food had been here only a few minutes.

Which meant Alice was home.

I gulped down half the juice and was on my third bite of the sandwich when there was a knock at the door. "How are you feeling, Bella?" Esme asked.

"Better now." My words sounded strangely formal, but she didn't seem to notice. "Thank you for the food."

"None needed." She walked over to Charlie and smiled as I ate. "His color is improving."

"Really?" I had been so busy watching his eyes I hadn't paid attention to anything else.

"Much better than when we found him," she said, and I found it difficult to swallow my sandwich.

"Tell me."

Esme sighed, the sound even more dejected coming from her. "I didn't see him right away. Carlisle and Emmett went in first to make sure he was decent."

"I'm sure Charlie would appreciate that."

"Emmett carried him out, and I was shocked by his appearance. For all of his size and facial hair, he looked like a scared little boy, and my mind just…" Her tone altered, and she demurely cleared her throat. "He was curled in the fetal position, his clothes stiff with frost, but we were relieved by the lack of blood. Carlisle brought him here and dispatched Rose and me to your father's car and house while Emmett returned to the field to grab you."

I chewed on that for a moment. "Rosalie went back to the cruiser?"

"Carlisle needed to know exactly what shape it was in so Charlie's cover story would have appropriate supporting details."

In spite of my conflicting feelings for my husband, my cheeks flushed at the memory of why he'd destroyed the car, and I was relieved Rosalie would be the only one to see it.

Esme must have attributed the color of my cheeks to the tomato bisque,. "My errand to your house took longer than expected, so Carlisle dressed Charlie in some of his unused outdoor gear in the interim."

I sipped my soup. "Did something happen at the house to hold you up?"

Esme's golden eyes darkened. "Some human memories still hurt, even after all these years."

My stomach cramped as I realized what she was referring to, and I set down my spoon. The death of her son was a devastation she would never forget, not even in a million literal years.

"You'll understand what I mean," she said, "that is, if you haven't changed your mind about changing."

"What?"

"You are beyond relieved that both you and Charlie are still alive." Her eyes were soft as she walked toward me. "But that emotion is tempered by other things, things much more difficult to address and settle."

I averted my eyes as she exposed me, suddenly interested in the flowers on the windowsill.

"You have a lot to think about, Isabella." She smoothed my hair. "And you take your time while you do it."

Her encouragement made me uncomfortable, and I looked down at my fuzzy feet.

"Carlisle will be in to check on Charlie in about an hour." She walked to the door. "Do you need anything else?"

I shook my head and folded my hands in my lap, feeling alone and unsure of myself.

"Well, call us if you need anything. Oh, and that chair reclines if you'd like to sleep."

"Okay. Esme?"

She turned to face me, her golden eyes warm with concern.

I swallowed again to keep my voice from breaking. "Tell Edward I love him."

A somber smile filled her eyes. "He knows that, dear. But I will definitely tell him."

"Thank you."

She closed the door, and I wiped my face with my hands. After covering the half-eaten sandwich with my napkin, I returned to the stool at my father's side and began waiting. Waiting for Charlie, waiting for answers, waiting for a peace to fill the widening hole in my battered heart.

Poor Charlie! Whatever will become of him? Stay tuned... :)