Work Text:
Charlie’s first year as a vampire was hands down the worst year of his entire life. So far.
He had to remember that. He’d have too many years to compare in the future. He could no longer think in terms of hyperbole, couldn’t exaggerate about the best and worst moments of his life because now his life was never-ending. There could always, always be better and worse moments ahead. What a cruel fate.
Part of what made it so terrible was that he could remember everything. So much of his life up until his death, his over half-a-century’s worth of life, had been manageable thanks to his brain’s slow degradation. Memories faded, and sometimes the pain with them. Now, as he captured moments with his super-human hippocampus, they were clear as day and easily accessible. The crunch of the garbage man’s arm bone as he snapped it with his teeth. The gurgled scream of the teenage cashier as he drained her from the vein in her neck. His daughter’s voice calling after him as he outran her down the mountain towards a campsite.
Even after going months and months without seeing her, the longest he’d spent away from Bella since her return to Forks, he wasn’t sure he was ready to face her again. He could still remember the dark pit that had formed when Renee took her away all those years ago. The time he’d been allotted with her had been so precious. He’d never not wanted to see his daughter. This was an entirely new, complicated feeling.
The Cullen’s porch was made of the most neatly sanded red cedar wood he’d ever laid eyes on. He stood in the dark, looking at the surrounding forest with his ridiculously perfect vision. He missed the uncertainty darkness used to bring. Shadows shielding secrets from his eyes, the world disappearing into a veil of black that he could only guess at. The ability to see clearly in the dark made sense for a nocturnal hunter, he supposed. But weren’t bats blind? Of all the vampire lore in the world, he didn’t even get the turn-into-a-bat kind of curse.
He wished he could sigh.
Obviously, he noticed when Edward joined him. He stood by the sliding screen door, waiting for Charlie to react. He kept his shoulder cold.
“I know you’re angry with her,” Edward said in a low tone, his decibel-choice an attempt to keep the conversation just between them. “But this is killing her.”
Charlie scoffed at his choice of words, then immediately felt guilty. He kept silent and hoped his thoughts were just as quiet.
“And I know you resent me,” Edward went on. “I understand.”
At that, he had to fully laugh.
“’Resent’ is a fairly tame word, all things considered,” Charlie shook his head with a small smile.
“Hate me, then,” his son-in-law amended. “But don’t keep punishing her.”
At last, he gave Edward the courtesy of turning to face him. Charlie’s brow furrowed, and instinctually he wondered about his brow lines. About the signs of getting old that used to define his face. His frown wouldn’t carve a dent into his stone skin, and that pissed him off all over again.
“For someone who can read minds, you sure are dense,” He felt slightly awkward, insulting someone he couldn’t help but perceive as a teenager. The cognitive dissonance would take time to adjust to.
“As I told you, you’ve always been hard to read. Not exactly to Bella’s extent, but you’re…a blur.”
“Runs in the family.”
“Vampirism has only heightened that. I thought maybe it would evolve into a gift, like with her, but—”
“You were wrong. I’m plain as they come.”
“I’ll just come out and ask you,” He gritted his teeth. “Why won’t you at least speak to her?”
Though he didn’t need to rest his upper body, Charlie leaned against the porch railing and practiced folding his arms. He always loved the way that felt. Not just in his body, but how it made others perceive him as casual. Comfortable. Thoughtful. As Chief, when his arms were folded, others knew he was thinking. It was a useful stance; it instilled confidence in his deputy and made any ruffians believe he was deciding their cruel and unusual fate. He wondered if it had any effect on monsters.
“You have a daughter, Edward, you’ve never been annoyed by something she does?”
“Of course. But I would never—”
“I hope you never have to know what it’s like to have her do something unforgivable.”
“I would always forgive her. No matter what.”
“No, you’ll always love her no matter what,” Charlie explained. “But there are things that a child can do, when they grow up, that you can’t reconcile.”
Edward could clearly tell he was getting nowhere.
“It’s me, you should hate,” He reiterated. “I’m the one who deserves it.”
Charlie forced his eyes to roll, a performance just for Edward.
“Your whole pious act isn’t cute to me. And sure as hell doesn’t make me hate you any less.”
Edward held his lips together. His silence only fueled Charlie’s irritation.
“Can you hear that in me? Sense it, or whatever? You know exactly why I hate you, right?” Charlie pressed. When he didn’t reply, he went on. “You took everything from me.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do, fully. I don’t think you can comprehend.”
He’d asked Carlisle so many questions when he’d finally returned from his year away. Carlisle was one of the few he’d resigned to seek solace in. Of the many conversations they’d had, running through the woods or sitting on a boat on the lake, one stood out the most. The one where they’d discussed their children.
“It’s not that they don’t understand,” The doctor had said skipping a rock all the way across a pond. It lodged itself in a tree on the opposite bank. “Their years of experience, of course, provides an amount of wisdom beyond the age their static bodies represent. But they are, for all intents and purposes, frozen in time.”
“Frozen in time,” Charlie repeated. He picked up his own little stone and pulverized it into dust. “So you’re saying that their brains...”
“I’m no expert in neuroscience, or even all the implications and after-effects of vampirism,” Carlisle smiled slightly. “But from what I’ve garnered, whatever the human biology is at the time of transformation, that is what’s etched in stone.”
“You’re saying their frontal lobes never fully developed.”
The doctor chuckled in lieu of a response. Charlie had to crack a wry smile in reply.
“So…in a way, Bells is always going to be eighteen. For real.” The thought tugged at his silent heart.
“She’ll learn. They all do. But there are bouts of irrationality that come and go more frequently than say Esme or I, having turned later in life. The blood lust doesn’t help, either, and certainly self-restraint and emotional intelligence could merely have to do with how long they’ve been vampires…”
“I much prefer thinking my daughter married a teenager than a century-old man.”
“Understandable.”
“’Course…Bells was always the adult in the family. She took care of me more than the other way around. Heck, that’s probably why your boy took to her. He saw that maturity…turned it into something disgusting.”
“He fell in love.”
“Love shouldn’t change you. Not like this,” Charlie’s tone grew dark. “This side of her, this side I’ve never seen…it’s like I don’t even know her.”
“She’s still Bella, Charlie. And you’re still you.”
“Yeah?” He shook his head and punched his fist into a small birch, shattering the trunk. As it came down he laughed without humor. “The guy who dedicated his life to serving and protecting, killing for pleasure? Getting giddy off of luring women to alleys, reveling in their fear? You think that’s me? Thanks, pal.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. You’re young, and brand new to this. No matter who you are at your core, the lengths anyone would go to to sate such an unimaginable thirst can be catastrophic. You were frightened, trying to stopper a pain you were completely unfamiliar with.”
He reached out to gently touch his hand, which was still clenched around the fragments of wood. Charlie couldn’t even flinch. He welcomed the touch, his stiffness waning.
“You give me too much credit, old timer,” He half-smirked. “How do you know I’m not too weak? Doomed to be a red-eyed, flying purple people eater for all eternity?”
Carlisle gave his fist a light squeeze.
“Because you came back.”
Charlie stared Edward down, daring him to protest. A TV flipped on somewhere deep inside the house. He wondered if someone had been listening in on their conversation and thought better of it. Perhaps Esme felt that some show with a laugh track would help drown out their voices, should either be raised above a whisper. She was kind, that way. Respectful.
“I never intended to hurt you or your family, Charlie,” Edward gave his weak rebuttal.
“You killed my daughter.” He had to start with the most obvious in his list of offenses. “Whether she’s here now or not, she died, and I couldn’t be there for her. I couldn’t be there for the birth of my granddaughter. I couldn’t be there when she chose this path, I couldn’t be there to guide her. And if I had been…hell, maybe I could have stopped all this.”
“It was her choice.”
“Then how come I didn’t get one? Where was my choice?”
“I…tried to stop her.”
It was a coward’s excuse, so pathetic Charlie couldn’t help the swell of pity.
“Don’t be stupid, son, you couldn’t have stopped her.”
“Just talk to her. Alone, without us, without Renesmee.”
“Wasn’t there to help her choose a name…”
“And let her say her piece.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
Charlie looked him in the eye and unleashed a flood of memories, the most gory and gruesome from the past year, spill across his mind. They felt so loud, he was sure the boy could at least capture the vile cadence of his thoughts.
“…Oh.” Edward had finally caught on.
“I’m not punishing her. I’m protecting her.”
“You know she’d be the last one to judge.”
“She shouldn’t have to see me like this. To know what I’ve done. I’m not ready for it, yet,” He admitted at last.
That, the punk could understand. There would be no arguing with monster’s remorse, no amount of convincing that could take away the shame. Somehow, Charlie felt Edward would understand more than any one of them.
Edward’s curt nod and departure back into the house was proof enough of that.
He couldn’t stay put in that moment. It wasn’t antsy-ness, something he’d often experienced as a human, where fidgeting felt like the only way to release his muddy emotions. That was gone too, a need to move. Had he wanted, he could pick a spot among the trees and root himself there for the next millennia. Now, though, his mind wanted to move. It craved the passage of time and new scenery to achieve some kind of contentedness.
Charlie leapt off the deck, landing with a soft thud on the wet grass below, and took off into the darkness that was never dark enough. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Carlisle had said, the admiration in his tone—as though returning to the Cullen cult was somehow a sign of nobility. Bravery.
It was all too weird.
He hated all of them in that moment. The brutish kid who only knew how to crack jokes. The blonde who thought she was hot shit. The mother who was obsessed with her kids’ happiness and hadn’t evolved a personality beyond it. The confederate soldier. The girl who moved like a pixie. The doctor with an obnoxiously unshakable moral compass. His love-struck son-in-law, his thoughtless daughter, his granddaughter he couldn’t even be around…
A growl escaped his lips. An actual growl, like the monster he was. He had to rip something apart, he wasn’t even thirsty. No, he was always thirsty. A rabbit would do, and provide a brief distraction. Rabbits were entertaining to catch, the way they darted under roots and blended with the brush. They were quick and took unexpected turns. Nothing he couldn’t keep up with.
He was on his second cottontail when Carlisle found him.
In a broody show, Charlie slumped against a large boulder and tossed the rest of his kill deep into the forest. The rock behind his head crumbled a bit against his granite skull. The doctor hopped over to his side and examined him.
“These eyes amber yet?” Charlie waved a hand in front of his own face. When Carlisle knelt in front of him and reached out, he didn’t turn away. Ever the gentleman, the doctor mouthed, “May I?” and when Charlie moved his head closer to his reach, he gently wiped a stream of blood from his mouth. It tingled slightly where he touched, and it took Charlie by surprise. He’d become so accustomed to numbness.
Carlisle raised the blood plucked from Charlie’s mouth to his own lips and smiled.
“Another dozen or so rabbits and you’ll be full vegetarian,” He mused. “Though there’s far more satiating game along the Pacific Northwest.”
“Hippies? Weed farmers? Big Foot?” Charlie was grateful for Carlisle’s compliant chuckle. It was likely too soon to start joking like that, but he was desperate to prove he could. “You didn’t have to come find me. I was just blowing off steam, I’m not leaving again.”
“I know. I wanted to see if you were alright.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s okay, Charlie.”
They sat side by side in silence for a bit. A peaceful breeze kissed Charlie’s cheeks and he closed his eyes. Even if he didn’t need to sleep, he could at least close off one sense at will. The darkness of the inside of his eyelids was just as soothing as it had been when he was alive.
“I only ever saw Interview with a Vampire,” Charlie broke the quiet with his thoughts. “It was one of the first times I’d tried dating since Renee left. Don’t much remember the girl, and the movie was fine, but I’d been thinking about that whole…lore, or whatever. That was my one vampire flick.”
“Rice got a lot right,” Carlisle said.
“Yeah? Hm. Wonder if she knew.” A distant owl made a few eerie sounds. It used to excite Charlie to hear wild calls. Now he always had to weigh whether the cries signaled prey. “Anyway, the curse of it all…I’d always gotten it in my head that you don’t get to feel things as the undead. The wind on your face, the fabric of clothes on your body…Except sex, I guess. Those movies were always about sex, so they must’ve felt that. Wanted it.”
“It’s part of how we hunt. Physical attraction.”
“And you want it just as bad?”
“Hunger and lust can go hand in hand, oddly enough,” Carlisle shrugged. “Distinct biological processes, but for vampires I’ve seen firsthand how the messages get mixed.”
“You better not be talking about my daughter and your son.”
Carlisle tilted his head down in a laugh and a lock of his hair tipped in front of his eyes. It looked white in the moonlight.
“Why are you wondering about touch sensation?” He redirected the subject. “Have you been uncomfortable?”
“Just…surprised, I guess. At how soft rabbit fur feels. At how I like it, how I still get pleasure from petting something delicate. Surprised at…You.”
In one swift motion, Carlisle stood back up. Charlie realized neither of them needed to be sitting, and the doctor had been kind to meet him at his level. It still felt somewhat natural to him, sinking and bending.
“…I’ve come on too strong, haven’t I,” Carlisle said.
“I don’t really have a frame of reference for what’s ‘too strong’ in your world,” Charlie stood up to look him in his golden eyes. “I only know you’re the reason I haven’t launched into another murder spree these past few days.”
“I worry I took advantage of you, in your vulnerable state.”
“Being a vampire didn’t cure me of free will, unfortunately,” Charlie said gruffly before he gripped Carlisle’s shoulder. “I was lonely. You were kind to me. You’ve been that anchor for all of the wayward souls you took under your wing.”
“I’ve always been fond of you, Charlie. I admired you before our families were joined, and I admired how well you played along with Bella’s transformation.”
“Still haven’t forgiven you for back then…father to father, you shouldn’t have kept me in the dark.”
“It was Alice who told me you’d see the full picture soon enough,” Carlisle’s smile grew slightly. “Do you remember when we first moved here? When Billy tried to warn you about us?”
“Ha. How wrong was I, right? I think I even called him ‘paranoid’,” Charlie shook his head. “I owe him an apology. If he’ll ever talk to me again…”
“He’ll come around,” Carlisle assured him, ignoring his scoff. “But it was then, I think, that I first saw your true character.”
“What, a true sucker?”
“You were kind. Even when your best friend advocated against us, you kept an open mind. You welcomed us.”
“It was my job. And you were…you know, good for the community. A good doctor.”
“It was kind.”
An urge erupted into a swift action, where Charlie pressed his lips against Carlisle’s. When they broke apart, the doctor was looking at him patiently. That patience doused the fire that had burned so quickly and smoldering embers of anger remained.
“I’m not a child, doc,” Charlie seethed. “Don’t treat me like one.”
“I’m not. I simply don’t wish to delay your return.”
Suddenly, it dawned on Charlie that the reason for Carlisle’s company was not pleasure after all.
“So, you’re here on Bella’s behalf? What, you told her you’d come fetch me?” Sure enough, in the distance Charlie could hear the door to the veranda slide open.
“Charlie, give her five minutes. Don’t you want to work towards some common ground with her? You do want her in your life, don’t you?”
“Jesus…of course I do.” He felt foolish. They’d had this conversation before, but this time he felt like he’d been trapped. “Think they can hear us?”
“Not from this far away. Your hearing is likely heightened right now, as a newborn.”
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Only a moment of perplexion crossed Carlisle’s face before he understood the question. “About us,” He added for good measure. It was, of course, the least on his mile-long list of shames. Still, he didn’t think he could handle that conversation on top of everything else.
“Edward wouldn’t have told her. However, he’s old fashioned, and it’s hard to gauge how he feels.”
“Don’t much care how he feels. I mean, he didn’t think you and Esmee ever…branched out?”
“Vampires have a tendency to form bonded pairs, as you’ll notice. I believe Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, Edward…all think they’ve mated for life. They’re young and romantic. But as there’s no breeding and no end to life, it’s an unrealistic expectation of love. My love for Esmee is eternal, but that doesn’t mean I won’t form other relationships that have meaning. She understands this. She’s explored it. And you’re special to us, Charlie. It’s also the first time we’ve had someone in the family who is…”
“Old?”
Carlisle smirked.
“Give yourself another century or two before you start calling yourself ‘old’.”
It was the first time Charlie felt a smidge of excitement to experience a long future.
“Alright then, geezer,” Charlie playfully flicked the lock of Carlisle’s hair dangling in front of his face. “Race you back.”
His daughter was standing so still on the deck when they returned that Charlie could have easily mistaken her for a garden statue. Her expression shifted in an instant, from anxious to welcoming, as he glided over the railing and landed with a soft thud in front of her.
Carlisle threw a smile to the both of them before bidding them goodnight and disappearing into the house. Charlie wondered if all of them would be listening in. He couldn’t imagine there was anything more entertaining on TV.
Bella seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” She asked.
“I’m fine here.”
Charlie took her in and remembered the first time he’d seen her in this form. Looking like his daughter, but also not his daughter. A strange, uncanny valley perception that had only just started to ease with time. Now, he felt back to square one. He saw her through the filter of what she was and what she had done. He wasn’t a total idiot, back then. He’d known something was different, and that some paranormal fate akin to Jacob’s wolf-out had befallen Bella. Charlie had embraced whatever time he was allowed to spend with her. He gladly accepted the stories he’d been given, the omissions he couldn’t question. That had been easier than knowing the truth. Just like they’d said. He wished he’d believed them.
The world of magic and murder had been so far away from him. Right under his nose, but a peaceful blind spot. And now there was no going back.
“Dad,” Bella began, stepping close to him. He allowed her to squeeze his arms. “It’s…it’s good to see you.”
“You too, Bells.” Good. They could begin with honesty. “Renesmee asleep?”
“Yeah, she’s at our house. I promise you’ll get to see her again soon.”
“You want to be careful. I do, too.”
She’d always had a good poker face, but the awkward mannerisms Charlie had come to know so well in his daughter had begun to fade. She was a more graceful speaker, now. No gasps or stammers. Little things he never thought he’d miss.
“I don’t really know where to begin…” Her first lie, he was sure. “I’m really, really sorry, Dad.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t know the transformation would be so hard on you. I didn’t think—”
“Well, that’s just it, Bella. You didn’t think.” Charlie was trying to keep his temper under control. He wanted to let her get it all out. He didn’t want her to feel the pain, the guilt anymore. But at the same time, he did.
Bella stepped back, surprised by his harshness.
“You would have done the same for me. You can’t deny that.” She was resorting to her defense quicker than he’d expected. Somehow, she still believed she’d done the right thing.
“Good thing we’ll never have to know,” Charlie said.
“I know how much you lost. How much I took from you.”
“The job I loved, the girlfriend I loved, my friends…” The life he’d worked so hard to build for himself that he could no longer live. Sue hadn’t returned his calls. “Things I would’ve lost in death anyway, I suppose. Just not on my own terms.”
“If it had been me, dying in a hospital bed, and you had the power to save me, you would have—”
“I’m not arguing that. But kid, you didn’t give me a choice.”
“You were in a coma!”
“I got my diagnosis months before hospice. There was time to talk.”
“I couldn’t just come out and offer you immortality, Dad. I couldn’t reveal us and put my family at risk…”
“You couldn’t until it came down to the wire. Until it was a snap decision, an emotional decision that no one could say anything about.”
Her lips formed a thin line. That was a classic Bella pout, one he recognized from before.
“I’m sorry I put you through this,” She said. “But if you’re waiting for me to admit it was a mistake, that’s not going to happen.”
“Then when does it end, Bella? You going to turn Renee at 90 before she breathes her last? Phil? Your high school pals? You can’t make us all monsters just to protect your idea of a perfect life.”
“You’re not a monster, Dad.”
“You don’t understand,” Charlie shook his head and suddenly couldn’t look her in the eyes. “I’m happy that you don’t understand. But you’ve still never killed another human being, Bella. That’s not something you want to live with for any amount of time, let alone forever.”
“Everyone here has…made mistakes.”
“You can dismiss it so easily because you’re the only one here who doesn’t know what it feels like to be damned.”
“Damned? Dad, you sound like Edward.” She gave a tiny exasperated, breathy laugh that sounded more like the uncomfortable human Bella he’d known.
“I bet you anything he tried to convince you not to become one of them. Am I right?”
Bella gave a stiff nod.
“You ever wonder why?” Charlie prodded.
“I knew why. He wanted me to have the kind of choices I could only have as a human. And he wanted to protect my soul, I think. But I don’t believe in that kind of stuff.”
“You don’t have to believe in a soul to know when it’s been shattered.”
“You’re still learning, okay? There’s a curve.”
He had to laugh at that.
“A curve? For learning not to kill people? That’s very gracious of you, Bella, glad you won’t mind if I eat a few more folks while I’m still getting my vampire sea legs here.”
“I know it’s hard.”
“You managed it, somehow.”
“Dad, it was different for me. I was mentally prepared. I…” She trailed off. He nodded.
“You chose it. Guess that does make all the difference, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“Why’d you do it, Bells?”
“I couldn’t lose you. I just couldn’t, and I—”
“Not me. You. Why did you want this for yourself?”
Her brow furrowed slightly.
“I think I was always meant to be one. I never felt normal, or like I fit in among humans, and I—why are you laughing?”
“Because everyone feels that way as a teenager,” Charlie felt comfortable putting his hand on her arm. “But instead of riding it out you decided to freeze the picture. I get that, too. Everyone thinks they’re immortal, or wants to be, when they’re young.”
“Look, I know we’ve never talked about this. But I was different. Edward couldn’t read my mind, remember.”
“He said that mine was a hard read, too, I don’t think that means I was destined for vampirism…”
“Maybe you were! Face it. We weren’t like everyone else.”
Charlie found the courage to pull her into a hug. He’d hugged her plenty in recent years, and she’d felt hard and stone-like. Finally, he could hold her and she melted against him like she used to.
“Bella, I love you more than anything in the world. And you are a distinct young woman of incredible importance to me. Just like your daughter is to you,” He said against her hair. “But I hate to break it to you, kiddo…you're not special. And neither am I.”
He felt Bella’s shoulders shake slightly from her chuckle.
“Don’t say that. Edward might find out I’m a normal girl and want a divorce.”
Charlie actually liked the sound of that, but he laughed back good-naturedly.
“Hey now, he’s got great taste,” He pulled back to look her in the eyes. Her amber met his red. “And love makes us see the superhuman in anyone.”
“I’ve always seen it in you, Dad” She whispered. “You’re a great man. That won’t stop now.”
It would take time. Perhaps eventually she would fully understand how she had doomed him. At that moment, however, the hopefulness in her gaze made him brave.
“I’ll do better. I promise I will,” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
Charlie knew that. For a moment, he was, too.