Many thanks to Kids2003 for being my first ever official reviewer, and making it a positive experience too :0)
Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga. I own twitchy fingers that like to write for no profit.
Chapter 3: Dreams and Discussions
I let Charlie drive us down to First Beach; I guessed he'd be more comfortable that way, and I wanted to take the time to start thinking over the dream that'd been forcing its way from my subconscious to my conscious mind. No point delaying the inevitable, and maybe if I figured it out now, I might manage a few more hours of normal sleep. Well, once the 'Alone In The Forest' dream had had its turn. I was under no illusions that I'd be getting rid of that one for a while. I rubbed at my chest absently, not really realising I was doing it. Actually, thinking about it, I was willing to bet that the nightmare would probably get worse for a while now that I'd accepted the battle was lost. I decided it was probably a good idea to warn Charlie that just because I was taking steps towards normalcy, didn't mean I was going to avoid the nightmares. "I'll tell him later. No need to sour the good atmosphere just yet" I reasoned.
Running the dream sequence through my head, I began to pick apart the separate scenes. This was how I always worked these things through - I'd analyse each scene carefully, filtering out the factual information I knew I'd picked up from the stuff I assumed I'd learned without realising it, and the little leaps of logic that I'd made in between.
The dream always started the same, even if the other scenes changed order on occasion; an ancient version of the La Push rez, no modern buildings, just the traditional wooden longhouses, set a little way back from First Beach. I wouldn't have recognised the place at all, if it were not for catching a glance of James Island just off in the near distance. Though for some reason in my dream state, my mind was labelling the island 'A-Ka-Lat'. "Ok. So that all gets filed under 'things I've probably read, but forgotten I knew'" I thought to myself, moving along through the scene in my mind's eye.
My dream always showed me wearing traditional Quileute clothes, and going about general day to day (well for the period anyway) tasks, all the while wrangling a large group of dark haired and eyed native children who seemed happily intent on making every simple task into a game. "Hmm. I'm gonna put that in the 'haven't a clue' pile for now."
Sometimes at this point in my dream I would be weaving something out of dog hair, sometimes I'd be smoking some meat, sometimes tending to a crying infant. The tasks I'd be carrying out we're almost always different, but yet were always very domestic, and they were always violently interrupted by James arriving in the village. Despite the traditional clothing I and everyone else would always be wearing, James always appeared just as I'd last seen him in the dance studio in Phoenix. Greasy, dark blonde ponytail, pale bare chest, leather jacket, worn jeans and bright, violent red eyes. Dream James would grab person after person, breaking necks, biting and sucking down a few mouthfuls of blood, throwing down the body and moving on to the next. Men, old and young, women, and children alike. James clearly didn't care in the least. He killed his way through the village, ignoring the screaming,cursing, and the thrown spears and harpoons. Steadily, murder by murder, working his way towards ... Me.
I breathed carefully through my nose, reminding myself that I couldn't really smell the blood. It was a dream. Not even a dream. A memory of a dream, and it would be a really bad idea to get Charlie worrying about me again this early in our day. "What the fuck am I trying to tell myself with this scene?" I thought "James is definitely dead - I can clearly remember seeing being dismembered and burnt. Even through the venom pain I can remember that much" I was rubbing at my chest again, the memory drawing my breath tight with hollow pain. "Careful, Bella, ease back from that memory, focus on the dream instead." The warning actually seemed to help and, grateful for the reprieve, I firmly directed my thoughts back to dream James. "So yes, he's dead. And I may be wrong, but from the way he would talk, I really got the impression he was not old enough to have even been born as a human in the period this dream scene was set, let alone old enough to be a vampire murdering his way through the tribe. Unless maybe I'm using him as a metaphor for any and all human-drinking vampires." That actually felt like the right answer to me, so I moved along to the next part of the scene.
I'd always stand firm in my dream, pushing the children behind my body to shield them if I was close enough to them to do so. And dream James would reach out and grab me by my throat, his icy stone hand pulling me close enough to smell the blood on his breath. He'd smirk at me, lean in to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin and as he bit down I would hear feral snarls and loud, rumbling growls, and the crunch of bones breaking. And then the scene would change. "Those snarls and growls. They're not vampire noises." I suddenly realised. "I've heard vampires snarling and growling before, and even noises as ugly as those have a certain musical quality when they come from a vampire. These sound more animal... A bear maybe? Something big, that's for sure. And definitely not coming from James." Something else for the 'haven't a clue' pile for now then. Maybe something would click later.
"You ok over there, Bells? You're very quiet." I looked over to see Charlie's face starting to cloud over with the sadly familiar worried expression again.
"Yeah I'm fine, Dad. Just thinking on some stuff. It's not important, it can wait for another time." That felt like a lie. Whatever it was I was trying to tell myself with this dream, I was fairly sure it was important. It always was when it came to those dreams. Also, I was fairly sure it couldn't wait for another time. But I couldn't allow myself to worry Charlie again. I'd have to give the thoughts a little stir now and then through the day and try to keep him from noticing.
"Did you grab your fishing gear and bring it with us, Dad?" I knew he had, I'd heard it banging in the truck bed a few times as we drove along, but I needed to divert him from his worry for a while, and pretty much anything touching on the subject of fishing was almost guaranteed to distract him. He smiled.
"Yeah. I dumped it in the back before we set out. Gonna chuck out a line with your old man this time, kiddo? I'll even bait your hook for you as I know you're not good with that." I remembered being a little kid, getting dizzy and passing out right into the river while trying to bait my own hook.
"Ok then, Dad. But I'm holding you to that offer. The sea'll be far too cold to pass out into." He clearly remembered the incident too as he chuckled at me, his moustache twitching in his amusement at the memory. Charlie liked to sit pretty much in silence when he fished. That would give me some more time to pick at the threads of this dream and see what came out of the tangle.
We pulled up into a parking spot close to the beach, and Charlie opened his door to climb out.
"We're not parking by Billy's today?" I asked. We always had in the past. Billy lived close enough to the beach that it made just as much sense to park there as anywhere else, plus it gave Charlie an excuse to check in with his best friend.
"Not today. I figured it'd be better if we kept to ourselves today. Keep some privacy to talk about stuff and work out what to do." He gave me a steady look, gauging my reaction. He was clearly stepping carefully through the minefield I'd sown over the last couple of months, whilst holding firm to his resolution that we really needed to talk things out. I swallowed against the lump in my throat brought on by my sorrow for what I'd been putting him through. No-one should be afraid to speak to someone they love in case it sends them over the edge. He mis-read my swallow as a nervous reaction and his eyes softened. "It's ok, Bells. We'll take it slow and steady. Just generalities, no specifics, no names, no memories. Ok?"
I tried for a reassuring smile. And missed it by a country mile, judging by his answering expression. He opened his mouth to reassure me again, but I jumped in quickly.
"It's fine, Dad. You're right. There's stuff we should talk over and I'll make sure to tell you if we start approaching something I'm not ready to discuss. Will that work ok?" He blew out a relieved breath I hadn't known he was holding.
"Sounds like a good plan, kiddo. Now lets get this walk underway, shall we? If we time things right, we can hit the diner mid-way along the beach just after the lunch rush, and I'll run in and grab something for us to eat on the beach." I nodded in agreement and he grabbed his fishing box and two poles from the truck bed before giving a jerk of his head to show me the way down to the beach.
For once it wasn't raining, although the wind was pretty fierce, whipping my hair around my face and making me wish I'd thought to braid it before we left. I pulled up the hood on the sweater I'd borrowed from Charlie, and breathed in the homely scent of him as it settled around my face. We'd only been walking for a few minutes when Charlie decided to grab the bull by the horns and began.
"So, Bells, I'm not quite sure where to start with all of this but I guess the best thing to do is just say what's on my mind and if I'm pushing too far you tell me." He stopped us in our tracks, stood in front of me and ducked down to make eye contact with me under my hood. "But I do mean you need to tell me, kiddo, ok? You can't just shut down and block me out if you can't answer, or if I strike a nerve or something. You just can't do that again. I don't think either of us will be able to take that again." I nodded solemnly, my eyes welling a little at the raw emotion in his voice.
"I promise, Dad, I won't ever do that to you again." He opened his mouth to speak and I jumped in again "and I won't do it to myself again either." Charlie gave a satisfied nod and turned to start walking again, with me continuing along at his side.
"It just seemed like you were completely empty inside, Bella" he murmured, barely audible over the wind. "It wasn't like someone had left, it was like someone had died. Like you had died along with them." He turned to see how I was taking this and I took a deep breath, trying to re-inflate my empty chest which was aching anew at his words, letting the breathe whoosh out again I fought to keep my voice from breaking as I said
"Yeah that seems a pretty fair comparison. That's how it felt." I was determined not to lie to him. Too many times in the last year I'd been forced to lie to him for his own protection and I'd hated it every time. I needed to find a way to word this so he could understand that I hadn't just been throwing an epic, award winning teenage tantrum, but without exposing him him to things that he couldn't know about. That he mustn't know about for his own safety. I also needed to walk a fine line between avoiding the issue completely and preventing the void in my chest from breaking me open completely.
"I know that people often throw the term 'heartbroken' around, so much so that it's pretty much lost its real meaning. But Dad, it really physically felt that mine was completely shattered. No, worse, it was gone completely. Like my chest was completely empty, even of my lungs, and it wasn't just a person I was missing, but my own vital organs. I couldn't breathe!" I wrapped my arms about myself, holding myself together as the pain once more threatened. We walked on in silence for a while as he processed what I had said. I didn't really expect him to actually understand it. From an outside perspective I knew it would just sound like melodrama - Hell before all this, if I'd heard someone talking like this I'd have rolled my eyes and written them off as a drama queen - but it was the best way to describe it without either getting too specific and saying something that ripped the wound open again, or giving him too much information he shouldn't have.
After a few more minutes he spoke again, quietly. "And now?" He asked "is it better now? Cos I see you holding your chest as you walk, like you're worried your ribs are going to spring open, and I'm guessing you do that for a reason."
"And now it's... Heading towards starting to feel a little less painful." I winced internally at how weak that was. A few breadcrumbs, liberally sprinkled with caveats. I tried again, looking for a more positive way of explaining where I'm at. "I'm trying to make myself take steps in the right direction, but you should know, Dad, that I'm not going to just wake up tomorrow, or next week, or maybe even next month and say 'There. All better now. Time to be normal again.' I mean I want to get back to myself again, but it not going to be a simple fix. I guess I'm sort of looking at it like a building project; There's a lot of damage there that needs repairing on the structural side, and then I'll need to start working on the fixtures and fittings." I grabbed at my hood as a big gust of wind tried to rip it away from my face. "I guess the decor could use a little work too." I added ruefully, holding my arms out and gesturing at my current outfit. He gave me a half smile at my bad joke and reached out to gently squeeze my shoulder.
Once again we wandered along in silence, Charlie seemingly absorbing what I'd been saying, and me absorbing that strange calm I often feel when walking along this beach. I guessed it was the combination of the raging wild thunder of the waves on one side as I walked, and the almost eerie stillness of the forest on the other that always made me feel right at the centre of a see saw. Standing at the perfect balance point of nature; turbulence and peace at either end. "This was a good place to have come today" I thought to myself "I can think more clearly here. Maybe I can find a quiet spot to use regularly. I could certainly use a place that's quiet, free of memories and full of fresh air." I looked about me more carefully, spotting a few hundred yards away a small hollow just on the edge of the beach, where a small tree had blown over, pulling it's roots out of the ground, creating a sort of natural three sided shelter looking out to sea. Yeah I'd definitely be coming back here.
About a quarter of a mile past the tree root shelter, Charlie stopped and looked out to sea. "This seems like a good spot to throw out a couple of lines, kid" he suggested, nodding towards the cluster of rocks that were just becoming exposed as the tide withdrew. I nodded in agreement, although, honestly, I couldn't see what made this spot any better than any other random point along our walk so far. But Charlie was the expert so if he thought this was a good place then I guess it was. He busied himself baiting our lines and casting for both of us and then handed me my pole. He stayed quiet for another ten minutes or so, then finally spoke without turning to look at me.
"I know you think I don't understand how you feel, Bells. But I kinda think that maybe I do. What you were describing; that feeling like your heart and lungs had been removed, I've felt that myself. Like someone's gutted you like a prize trout for cooking, but somehow you're still alive, no matter how much pain you're in." I turned to stare at him in shock.
He was right.
He did get it.
That was pretty close to how I feel.
Seeing the shock on my face he explained. "That's how it was when your mother left. Her taking you with her too just made it worse." I used my over long sleeve to brush away the tear running silently down my cheek and drew in a long shuddering breath. Charlie continued "But, Bells, no matter how much pain I was in, I couldn't let myself give in to it cos I knew if I let go of myself that I wouldn't be in a fit state to see my little girl the next time I had a chance. I know you don't have that same sort of thing to hold on to like I did - spending time with you whenever I could and talking to you on the phone was my lifeline - but maybe you could let your old man return the favour and be something you can hold on to while you do all your 'building work'?"
My hands were shaking, and Charlie grabbed my pole from me before I could drop it and lose it to sea, pulling me with one arm into his safe warm chest and letting me rest my forehead against it as I struggled to pull in ragged breaths. I fought against the tears, refusing to return to the night before's soggy mess and slowly regained control over my breathing. "You're right, Dad, maybe that's what I really need." I agreed once I was able to talk. "I've been so selfish, focusing only on what I was feeling and completely failing to see what effect it was having on you. I was so desperate not to change anything, in case He ..." I broke off, not able to complete that statement without completely losing it, but hoping that Charlie would know what I was trying to say. He did, I could see the understanding in his eyes when I looked up at him "So I willingly let myself further into the nothing, kept myself there without taking even a second to think that maybe I was dragging anyone else down with me and I'm so sorry, Daddy, so, so sorry that I did this to you, to both of us but you know you've already returned the favour." He frowned in confusion. "It was realising how much I'd hurt you that made me start to pull myself out." I explained. "You've already been a lifeline for me and the fact that you're braving all this emotional stuff with me, for me, when we both know that it's the furthest thing from your comfort zone means so much more to me than I explain." The corner of his mouth twitched as I acknowledged how far out of character he'd been acting today, and the fact that I knew he was forcing himself to do it because he knew I needed it.
"Hmm well just as long as I don't need to do it again for another 18 years." He grumbled half heartedly, allowing me the out I'd created. We both needed a breather from the intense atmosphere surrounding us so I just added one last thing before wrapping my arms around him in a quick but crushing hug "Never again. I already promised."