Chapter IX: A Brewing Storm

OREGON, WASHINGTON. ONE YEAR AGO. . .

" See you next term, Biers!"

" Yeah, yeah. See you."

The freshman adjusted the strap of the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder as he exited the pub.

" Great," he ran a hand through his blond hair. "I forgot my fucking umbrella."

Riley hadn't really expected to be dragged out for drinks after his night class, but hey, they were celebrating the end of their freshman year, so he figured it couldn't possibly hurt to go out with his peers once in a while. Before he even realized, one drink turned into another and he was inebriated past midnight.

Riley huffed, bracing himself before setting off into the dimming pathways leading to the bus stop. He squinted past the heavy rain and braved through the dark streets; the ends of his jeans soaked wet with mud and rainwater as he jogged. A little woozy from the alcohol, he took some wrong turns and ended up near the docks.

Realizing his predicament, he halted his steps and shielded his face from the torrent with the back of his hand. The stores around him were closed, and he couldn't see anyone he could ask directions from. His head was pounding now, and the storm was getting harsher by the second. Before he could take off into another run, he saw a blur of orange hair in the darkness. A feminine laugh echoed in the dark.

A shiver ran up his spine. "Who's there?" he called out. Laughter again.

Not even a minute later, Riley was on the cobblestone floor, writhing from an inexplicable pain emerging from the side of his neck, his piercing screams swallowed by the hum of the thunderstorm.

" H-Help...!"

FORKS, WASHINGTON. THE DAY BELLA LEFT FOR ITALY. . .

When Charlie Swan came home from the Harry's funeral, he was expecting to see the silhouette of his daughter as she prepared dinner by the kitchen window, not a sullen-faced Jacob Black in his driveway. He shut off his car and got off, eyeing warily at the mechanical monstrosity that was Jacob's motorcycle as he marched up to his porch.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, kid," Charlie muttered tiredly to the teen. "But if Bella's not welcoming you in the house you should probably take a hint. Alice is staying over."

"They're not in the house, Charlie," Jacob frowned at him. "But Bella did leave you a message."

"What?"

Charlie strode into the house and Jacob followed after him. He reached into his jacket and saw his phone unresponsive—battery probably died mid-shift and he was too preoccupied to check—and fumbled with the charger when he reached the living room. When the screen lit up again, the town chief cursed under his breath.

21 missed calls

8 messages

[5:12PM] Dad

[5:20PM] Dad pick up

[5:30PM] Dad. There's a family emergency with the Cullens and I need to go with Alice

[5:31PM] Edward's in trouble and we're going after him

[5:35PM] Dad? I'm calling your phone

[5:40PM] I don't know where we're going yet exactly but I have my passport with me and please answer?

[6:38PM] Dad pick up near boarding soon, phone at 11% I forgot my charger

[7:29PM] Pulled pork in the microwave for dinner and please don't be mad at me I did try to call? We're boarding now I'll call you as soon as I can?

Charlie sighed, head falling back onto the headrest as he watched all his calls drop before they could even connect. He leaned back onto the cushion and shut his eyes, allowing his mind to rest and minutes to pass in silence, until...

"...what? Aren't you angry? Charlie, she left just like that." Jacob whined and paced around the room. "You know she's probably chasing him outside the country, right? And what's with—with suddenly showing up and pulling her back into their mess? They left her in the forest, for god's sake. Like they're not the reason why Bella's so fuc—"

"Jacob," Charlie cut him off, levelling him with a look. "You think I don't know that?"

Jacob quieted and watched as Charlie shook off his jacket. The chief unclipped his firearm from his side before setting it down onto the coffee table.

"You think Bella doesn't know that?"

"Charlie, I—"

"Jake, go home." The chief ordered exasperatedly. And then a little milder, "Billy's grieving and it's not pretty back there. You need to go. home." When it looked like Jacob was still going to argue, Charlie continued, "I'm thankful you're looking out for Bella, Jake, I am. But my daughter is not your responsibility, alright?"

Charlie collapsed onto his couch and threw an arm over his face. Jacob let out a frustrated sigh but wisely stepped away from him. From his place on the couch, Charlie could hear reluctant steps, the opening and closing of the front door, and the revving of Jacob's motorbike to life as he sped down the street.

Charlie was so, so tired.

Finally alone and undisturbed, he allowed himself to succumb to the fatigue and exhaustion. In just a matter of days, the peace he'd worked so hard to get back was taken from him. The town was already so unsettled with the reports of disappearances and murders. But then Harry's heart had gone ahead and gave up on him the day after they led a manhunt in the woods, and Charlie had lost a brother when he'd died. And now, even his home life was falling apart yet again.

Was stability really too much to ask? Was peace?

Before sleep claimed him, his thoughts drifted to the image of his daughter. Everyone said she resembled him. But when she left, she had the tendency to take everything with her and leave him picking up after the pieces.

Just like Renée.

The next morning, Charlie wakes up on the worn-out sofa with a sore neck. The telephone starts ringing and he's up in seconds.

"Bella?" His voice is hoarse.

"Ah, no, Chief Swan," It's Officer Todd from the station. "We need you down here ASAP. There's another body—they found it at the creek. Call came in half an hour ago, but ranger confirmed it just now."

He rubs a hand down his face. "Who's at the scene?"

"None yet sir. They closed it off for you."

"Forensics?"

"I'll call them up after this, sir."

"Good."

That night, when he's holed up at the station after sending everyone home, he allows himself to start thinking about Bella again. She still hadn't rung, and his calls still weren't pushing through. Where the hell was his daughter?

What good was he of a town chief, a father?

He felt so useless, and so, so tired.

Charlie doesn't let his thoughts eat away at him. At least not yet. He reminds himself that people were waiting on him. Parents, just like him. Friends and family, grieving, just like him.

When Bella does call, it's twelve hours later, and he feels himself let go.

»»—- ❈ —-««

"I'm going to stay here, dad." His mind runs blank and he doesn't speak for what could've been minutes, hours. "Dad?"

A grunt. "Is that what you want?"

Just like Renée.

He takes every word with a grain of salt and pushes it to the back of his mind. If he dwells on it any more, he'll start spilling at the seams, and he doesn't do that.

He can't afford to.

Officer Todd places a file on his desk. Another kid missing.

"Chief Swan, everything alright at home?"

He doesn't look up.

"Chief, just want to let you know Dr Cullen's moving back here with his family. He'll be reinstated as coroner."

"I see."

"Also, Billy Black called earlier, sir, he's asking if you'll be dropping by the reservation soon?"

"We'll see."

It's not so difficult to revert back to his solo days. His home life is quiet. Bella calls almost every day, and she's found a job there. She sounds... content. He barely hears anything he says to her.

Sleep, take-out, station, sleep. Life's a cycle, isn't it?

"Chief Swan."

"Dr. Cullen."

It takes exactly two months since Bella's departure before anything really reaches him again. On that day, despite the hurricane, multiple search parties composed of cops, rangers, natives, and volunteers prowled the woods in hopes of finding clues on the perpetrator. The telltale rumble of a shotgun being fired has them running, and the groups converge at the scene—Officer Reaser, on his back, smoke wafting from his gun barrel, a wild, distraught look on his face.

"It's a beast, chief, it's a fucking monster," Reaser says to him again and again, hysterical. "The size of three bears, I saw it, I saw it, I saw..."

"Catch your breath," he hears one of the kids from the reservation say to the officer as they help him up to his feet. "Easy does it. What did it look like?"

Reaser's eyes were blown wide. Charlie immediately removed the shotgun from Reaser's shaking grip. Charlie kept his gaze on the young cop from his station, even if he kept repeating the same words over and over until he dropped him home.

Charlie wonders if it's not just him losing his mind.

»»—- ❈ —-««

"What's the latest number, Swan?"

It's the governor.

"432 in Washington, sir," he replies into the phone. "But only 30 bodies have been recovered."

»»—- ❈ —-««

The storm hasn't stopped when he arrives home past midnight. He takes off his gear and creates a trail of rainwater as he makes his way up the stairs and into the shower. He relishes the feel of warm water against his skin until a stinging sensation pulls his attention to his left leg.

Shit.

There's a deep gash on it, almost nine inches long, spanning the tip of his ankle through the length of his limb. It's somewhat clotted but the slightest pinch has the wound opening and bleeding again; lines of red clashing against the white tiles of the bathroom as they swirl down into the drain. He probably hadn't noticed when he'd gotten caught in a barbed wire trap as he was trekked through the woods earlier.

Damn. It's deep. Definitely needs stitches.

He throws on some clothes and makes his way to the front door. It's raining still, and he's halfway out the door when he hears the unmistakable creak of the floorboard to Bella's room.

Charlie pauses and listens.

There it is—another creak, again. Somebody was in Bella's room. No doubt about it.

Taking slow, deep breaths, Charlie quietly moved to where he'd left his gear bag in the living room. He pulled out his pistol, detached the magazine and checked the load before making his way up the stairs in soft, careful steps.

The storm is in his favor, he thinks, and the intruder won't hear him coming. Alighting the flight of stairs, he braces himself when finds the door to his daughter's room ajar, light peeking through in the dark.

Kicking the door open, Charlie comes face to face with a red-eyed, pale-skinned man, hovering over her daughter's bed. The man turns to him, eyes now oddly transfixed on his leg. It takes some effort with the bad lighting, but Charlie recognizes him in seconds—the Biers' boy.

"Riley Biers?" his voice is incredulous. "You're Riley Biers."

Bad drugs and bad company, Charlie thinks. The boy is soaked in rain, pale as death and his eyes are wild red, mouth opening into a snarl. But why is he here?

"Riley, your father's been looking for y—"

Charlie manages to fire an entire round of bullets in rapid succession when Riley pounces on him, catching the teenager by surprise. His heart stops when Riley all but chuckles at him, plucking off the bullets from his skin like lint. Riley flashes sharp teeth at him in a menacing sneer.

What the fuck?

Charlie doesn't think twice and runs, throws himself down the staircase before Riley can pounce on him again. He can't feel his left leg when he pushes himself up from the fall, much less when he manages to crawl out the backdoor.

The ground was muddy from the rain and seeped into his clothes as he pulled himself through the earth. Harsh pelts of rain stung his back and his face as he crawled away from the house and into the woods. From the corner of his eye, he saw Riley emerge from the backdoor, red gaze finding him easily, focused on him even though it was almost pitch black out. He flips to shield himself with his arms when Riley lunges at him, only one face in his mind.

Bella really did have his eyes.

Charlie's scream catches in his throat when a monstrous, russet beast tackles Riley mid-air, barely an arm's length away from his face. He's shivering on the ground, eyes wide, seeing and unseeing at the same time as he traced the silhouettes of pale skin and brown fur clashing in the dark. Charlie startles and flings himself behind a large stump when two more beasts emerge from the woods.

Lightning strikes, and he's not sure whether it's thunder or growling that he's hearing next to him. He hears a solid cracking sound and turns his gaze back—just in time to see Riley's head bitten off from his body. One of the beasts—wolves, he could see that now, with the rain clearing and allowing the moon to illuminate the area behind his house—transformed into a bare, naked human and started a fire. One by one, the wolves turn into men and they throw Riley's body parts into the fiery pit.

One of the men turns his head to Charlie's direction, and Charlie loses himself to shock.

Jake?

When all is done, Sam turns his attention to the sorry state of a man leaning against the tree, muddled, battered, and bleeding.

"Chief Swan, I know you have questions," he says gently. "But first, you need medical attention. Can you walk?"

The chief of police doesn't find enough strength in his bones to stand.

"I don't think the hospital's a great idea. Bringing Charlie there will cause a scene," Sam tells Jacob. "You have the Cullen doctor's number, don't you?"

"Don't tell me you're thinking of—!" Paul snaps, but simmers down when a loud cry erupts from Charlie as he attempts to stand. There's blood gushing from his leg and the side of his head.

"Tell the Cullens that Chief Swan needs a house call from the doctor," Sam barks. "Now."

Jacob was a wolf.

"Kids are phasing left and right, Charlie. Something big's happening. And with what just happened at your house, I'm thinking the Cullens know something." Sam said as he cleaned the gash on his leg next to the faucet. "You'll be alright, Charlie."

Would he?

"Sam," Jacob called out from the hallway. "The doctor's here."

"Nine stitches on the leg, four on the side of his head, no concussion." Carlisle says.

"Are you sure?" Paul huffs.

"Yes." There's pity and guilt in the doctor's eyes. "The events were too traumatic for him. When the shock wears off, he'll be in a lot of pain. Bruises all over."

Charlie can't even form a sentence.

"I'll give him something for sleep," he watches the syringe sink into his skin and suddenly it's dark.

So.

The Quileute are wolves and they hunt vampires.

Personally, Charlie doesn't fault Billy for not telling him, but it really puts into consideration how much more dangerous Forks is. The Biers kid... the disappearances... the corpses...

It all starts making sense.

The Cullens are vampires, but they don't drink humans.

Bella, bless his daughter, found out during the car accident at the university parking lot last year. She'd gone ahead and dated Edward even though he wasn't human.

It was exactly like her to stumble upon the worst kind of trouble there was.

"So... you're a wolf." Charlie huffs.

"Don't like me for Bella anymore, huh?" Jake smirks at him.

"Now when did I give you the impression I ever did?"

"That's harsh, Chief."

When he can finally walk, Charlie decides to drive up to the Cullen residence with Jacob. Alice doesn't see them coming, naturally, but Carlisle welcomes him all the same.

"You have some questions for us, Chief Swan?"

"A few. But on the top of my head," he replies, matching Carlisle's gaze. "Why is my daughter in Italy?"

Carlisle and Alice share a look. Esme sighs.

"Is it because she's safe there?" he asks.

He was that lousy of a father and a cop. Couldn't protect the town or his daughter.

He could accept that.

"Tell him the truth, Carlisle." Rosalie's voice rings out as she descended the staircase. "If there's anyone we've wronged... If there's anyone we should apologize to. It's him."

"Rose..."

"No, Carlisle." Rosalie turned to him. "I'm sorry, Charlie, but this is reality. Vampires exist. Werewolves exist." Rosalie's voice is shaking in anger. "You're just another human in the middle of it."

It's six hours later—when he can't eat or sleep and can't even begin to think after they've told him everything—that he packs his bags and takes the first flight out to Italy.

Version 18 January 2021

Post Chapter Discussion

Charlie Swan isn't just in Volterra, he's in Volterra because he knows and something big is happening.

Alright. So let's get this out here: this chapter is full of parallels.

The first parallel is how Charlie was left in his house, all alone in Forks, by his ex-wife and took his daughter with her. He 'anchored' himself into his career and made it to sheriff, but then his daughter comes back, and it's all worth it and happy at the start until her daughter's a zombie and the moment she's feeling better about herself, she chooses to leave Forks (as he was mourning). Like Charlie hadn't been putting in all his effort into making the town a place for his family even when they'd left him the first time. It's a huge blow to his person and peace of mind.

The second parallel is actually between Charlie and Bella. Even though Charlie's convinced that Bella only takes after his looks and gets her 'essence' from Renee, that's not really true. We all know they share a certain personality, but it's actually in the zombie-like detachment that they lose themselves to in response to the abandonment that I chose to show that their father-daughter combo has essential similarities seen beyond the eye. It's all very painful, but it's a coping mechanism that they revert to to survive. And Charlie is a way better pretender than Bella — he manages to go to work and eat and sleep, brain-dead, yes, but managing nonetheless. It's strength and weakness at the same time. Although I can admit that Bella is fighting her own trauma and demons, Charlie is allowed to resent her choices, even if and especially because he loves her. And that's the other thing I might not be able to show in parallel in the future, so I'll lay it out here: Charlie and Bella share their unsurmountable capacity to accept and love beyond understanding. Bella with Edward despite all the pain, and Charlie with Renée even after the divorce, even if she never gave him a reason for leaving. Insert sad pouty face here.