Back to the Start
Disclaimer: all characters and copyright belong to SM.
Charlie and Billy
It was the type of coldness that reached into Charlie's bones, as if his heart were a door left wide open to the icy wind, slamming, only to open again. He stood in the Black's tiny kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. He tried to sort through the maelstrom of his emotions, but he was finding it difficult to think rationally. He felt betrayed. Hurt. It was like a stabbing pain in his chest, as if he was in mourning. Which was ridiculous because nobody had physically died. Only his trust had been shattered, his friendships, the way he perceived the world to be. Nothing was the same as it had been, or ever would be again. He was irrevocably changed, and he didn't know how to deal with that.
There was an agonizing squeak of rubber wheels on wood as Billy rolled his chair across the floor. He paused in the entryway. He looked at Charlie. Charlie looked at him.
Staring became their form of communication. It was a contest of sorts and winning came at a price. Charlie wouldn't look at Billy, so much as through him, like his head was transparent and he was fascinated by an object two inches behind his skull. His eyes grew hard, his face full of bitterness, not bothering to conceal his hurt.
Billy swayed a little, as if he was riding in a train carriage, a lazy and understated rocking motion. The heaviness of Charlie's pain weighed heavy on him, causing him to feel momentarily faint. He was the first to drop his gaze. He looked down at his hands, to find they were shaking.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry." Charlie repeated, his tone full of sarcasm. "Sorry for what exactly? For all the secrets? For looking me in the eyes and lying to my face day after day? For betraying years of friendship?"
"All of that and more." Billy said gruffly, his hands clenching in his lap. "It wasn't deliberate, I promise you. There were reasons – "
"Oh, there were reasons?" Charlie slammed his glass of water down on the kitchen counter, making the clear liquid slop over the sides. "This should be good." He sneered, folding his arms across his chest defiantly. "Go on then, friend, lets have it."
Billy flinched when he emphasized the word friend. "It wasn't easy concealing things from you. We had no choice – "
"You always had a choice, Billy Black." Charlie cut in harshly. "You just chose not to tell me because you felt you couldn't trust me with the truth."
Their eyes locked in battle; the easy camaraderie they shared over the years completely evaporated. Charlie held Billy's gaze, but instead of the warmth of friendship, his held an icy hostility. Billy stared back, face impassive but tilted back a little so he could meet Charlie's belligerent glare.
After a few seconds of this, Charlie turned his head to the window, eyes just as still; when he spoke again, his tone was robotic, dead. "Forget the excuses, Billy. I've decided I don't want to hear them. Nothing you can say will make things right."
"Charlie, I – "Billy stopped talking when Charlie raised a hand as if to ward him off.
"I'll ask the questions. And I want the truth from you, Billy. Can you at least do that?"
"Yes." Billy's sigh was like a gusty wave pulled from deep within his chest.
"Good." Charlie said mechanically, posture tight, eyes strained. "Those stories you told tonight – are they all true?"
"To the best of my knowledge…yes."
"The cold ones – "Charlie swallowed thickly.
"Are vampires." Billy finished for him.
"The ones your ancestors made the treaty with – "Again, Charlie struggled to finish.
"Were the Cullens."
"The same Cullens or their descendants?"
"The same."
Charlie held onto the kitchen counter, lowering his head a little as he let the enormity of that information sink in. "So that little shit who was stalking my daughter is a vampire?" He said through clenched teeth.
"Yes." Billy admitted warily as he watched a shudder ripple through the police chief's body.
"Bella knew?"
"Not at first. She found out much later."
"So, you knew what danger Bella was in and you didn't think to warn me?" Charlie's anger was rising now.
"I was bound by the treaty. And so were they."
"BULLSHIT!" Charlie suddenly roared, making Billy jump. "AS SOON AS YOU KNEW, YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME. NO EXCUSES!" He slammed his fist on the counter for emphasis.
Billy's complexion turned grey. "As soon as we knew for certain what was going on, we did something about it. Harry, Old Quil and I confronted the Cullens face to face…we demanded that they leave. And Jake and the others were always watching out for Bella, I promise you, she wasn't unprotected."
Charlie glared out of the window. The cloudy night had let through a river of starlit sky, as if the heavens had cracked open a storm, just like the one he could feel building inside him.
"So that wolf I saw on the road that day – "
"Was Jacob." Billy said solemnly.
"Bella knew…that's why she wasn't afraid." Charlie murmured. "So, Jake is a…a…" He shook his head, trying to wrap his head around the image of the boy he knew, to the gargantuan wolf that would fill any sane person with terror. They were one and the same. If he hadn't seen the evidence with his own eyes already, his rational mind would not have let him believe it.
"Jake is one of the tribe's protectors-the Alpha wolf in fact." Billy's dark eyes lit up with pride as he spoke about his son.
"There are more?"
"Yes, they were all here tonight." Billy revealed. "Embry, young Quil, Sam, Jared and Paul Lahote."
"Embry?" Charlie's eyes widened in shock. "He's one too?"
"Yes. He transformed the day you saw Jacob in his wolf form. The fever had been building in him for a while."
"Fuck me!" Charlie swore. He ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly. There was so much to take in, so much that defied rational belief. And Bella had known this whole time. She was a part of it, the secrets, the lies. She had let him go through the whole charade of going after Cullen using the law, knowing full well what he was, what he was capable of, and she had never said a word.
Hurt washed over Charlie again, as it sank in that it wasn't only his friends who had lied to him, his own daughter had been just as complicit. She didn't trust him with the truth, either. What did that say about them? What did that say about him?
"Why?" He asked Billy, his anger replaced with despair. "Am I that untrustworthy?"
"No, Charlie, that's not it at all. It was for the pack's protection. If too many people knew it would put them at risk, we couldn't allow that. Only a few were in the know – myself and the other elders."
"No other family members?"
"No." Billy confirmed. "We only relaxed that rule tonight at Bella's request."
"Bella asked you to tell me?"
"Yes, she has been wanting to tell you for the longest time, Charlie. She was so torn. I admit we procrastinated too long…I'm sorry."
Knowing that his daughter had advocated for him to be told the truth made Charlie feel a little better. It wasn't because she didn't trust him. She just didn't want to betray their secret. He began to calm down, which made him think more rationally.
"And the Cullens are gone for good?"
"We can only hope." Billy smiled faintly.
Charlie ran his fingers through his hair again, causing the graying strands to stand up in spikes. "It's all so unbelievable."
"To you, maybe. I grew up surrounded by it."
Billy thought back to his youth. He grew up in a different world than most—a world where magic was absolutely real and lived in his blood. It was a world where evil was real, too. As a teenager, Billy had always hoped a vampire would be foolish enough to cross Quileute land. He dreamed of being a powerful wolf, a savior to his tribe. Around the time he turned twenty he realized that he would never have the chance to be a superhero, and for many years that was a hard thing for him to accept. Most of the time, however, he was happy. After all, it was a good thing that vampires had learned to stay away from La Push. He became a man with a family, and he learned to treasure the peace of his small town and the safety it promised his wife and daughters. When Jacob was born, he saw the curse of his wolf heritage for the first time, he fervently hoped that vampires would never trouble the Quileute tribe again. He wanted his son to have the same peaceful life that he'd had.
Of course, with the Cullens return, it hadn't turned out that way.
"What happens now?" Charlie speculated. "With the Cullens out of the way, then surely life can go back to normal for everyone? The danger they posed is gone."
"The Cullens aren't the only vampires out there."
"There are more?" Charlie exclaimed.
"Oh, yes, none as civilized as the Cullens. Most are nomads-moving from place to place. They frequent this part of the world because the cloudy, rainy climate suits them, it's fairly isolated, and surrounded by impenetrable forests and wildlife."
Charlie's jaw clenched at the casual way Billy spoke about the vampires' existence. He still struggled to comprehend that it was all real. "They subsist on human blood?"
"The nomads do. The Cullens followed a so-called vegetarian diet-only drinking the blood of animals. It was one of the reasons Ephraim allowed them to remain, because they were different from the usual kind, civilized, able to blend in with society."
"God, I can't believe this has all been happening on my watch…and I had no idea." Charlie felt sickened.
"The cold ones haven't been seen in the area for decades, Charlie. When the Cullens did return to Forks, it was a dark time for the tribe. I knew exactly what this would mean for my son, and I mourned for the safe and commonplace life Jacob would lose. We had taught the histories to our sons, but the entire tribe had begun to believe that the stories were only legend. I warned Jacob about the signs of the werewolf—the heat, the growth spurt, the anger—but Jacob totally ignored me, thinking I was just being superstitious, which meant he was unprepared for what was coming." Billy's eyes turned bleak.
"Billy, I – "
"And I tried to warn you, too." Billy cut him off before Charlie could continue. "I was worried for my son, I was worried for my tribe, and I was worried for you. I told you to stay away from the Cullens, but my warning backfired. You had already taken a liking to Carlisle, and was upset about my so-called prejudice against the newcomers. And when you learned that members of the tribe were boycotting the hospital, it caused a rift between us, if you remember."
This time it was Charlie who flinched. "Yes, I remember."
"We're both at fault here, Charlie. We both could have handled things much better. I admit I've made mistakes, but I'm trying to rectify them. I thought what I was doing at the time was for the best, I see now that it wasn't. I can't change the past, but I'm hoping because of our longstanding friendship, you will try to find it in your heart to forgive me."
Charlie couldn't ignore Billy's heartfelt plea. His words were ringing with sincerity as was the tone of his voice. He had to admit his own part in it, how difficult he had made it for his friend when the Cullens first rolled into town. He had accused Billy of being prejudiced, that he was holding onto outdated superstitions. It was no wonder that Billy had found it difficult to confide in him. He hadn't exactly made it easy. He found his anger beginning to drift away like brittle leaves in the wind.
"I'm sorry, too." He apologized. "I should have listened to your warnings, instead of belittling them."
Billy smiled wearily, nodding his acceptance.
Charlie turned to look out of the window again, attracted by an eerie orange glow in the sky. "What kind of strange phenomenon is that?" He wondered aloud.
Billy rolled his chair further into the kitchen so he could look too. He stared intently into the dark, noting the same flickering glow, sometimes red, sometimes orange. "Open the window, Charlie."
Charlie leaned over the counter and shoved it open, feeling the fresh air rolling in, followed by something much more sinister, the acrid stench of burning. "Shit!" He said, darting a panicked glance at Billy. "Something's on fire."
Running out of the house, with Billy frantically wheeling his chair after him, the two men arrived on the front porch, their nostrils immediately assaulted by the strong smell of smoke. Now they had a better view, they could see the orange and red flames rising above the treetops, flaring into the night as if challenging the very heavens themselves.
Charlie's eyes were round with horror as he suddenly realized the direction the wind was blowing the flames. Forks was on fire.
A/N-thanks for reading!