Authors note: First I would like to thank BookwormBaby2580 for inspiring this story, as well as being my resident beta, and for NixHaw, who is the non-resident beta. This story is a retelling of Take This Heart, written by the beautiful and talented BookwormBaby2580. The difference is, this story follows Charlie instead of Bella and Carlisle. We will be getting into Charlie's back story, and some of it will be pretty dark. This is my first time doing anything like this so please be gentle.
Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer, and I belong to BookwormBaby2580.
1. When Angels Cry
This all happens prior to Take This Heart.
"Fuck!" I cursed as I threw the radio into the passenger seat of my squad car.
If Bella was hurt at all, Tyler Crowley was going to spend the rest of his life in a jail cell. I had just received a report of an accident at Forks High School, which turned my thoughts to Bella's well-being. I had asked right away for more specific details and was told there had been a car accident involving my Bella and that jack-ass, Tyler Crowley. They were on the way to the hospital.
I turned on my siren and lights, and barely heard the squeal of my tires as I pulled onto the road, my thoughts immediately going back to the conversation I'd had with Bella four months prior. How could this have happened, I wondered.
Four months ago May 26th I had been awakened by a phone call around three in the morning. Glancing at my clock I'd mumbled, "God dammit, somebody better be dead if they're calling me this early."
"What?" I shouted into the receiver as I picked up my phone.
"Dad?" I immediately recognized the soft voice on the other end of the line.
I was instantly awake, filled with feelings of dread. Bella, my sweet, loving daughter wouldn't be calling me this early unless something awful had happened.
"Bella, what's wrong?" I asked, my voice instantly becoming softer and more understanding. I quickly followed up with, "Are you hurt? What happened? Where's your mother?" Images of the many grisly and deadly accidents I had seen throughout my career as a police officer flooded my mind.
"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Nothing happened. Mom's probably at home with Phil." I could hear her breath coming in quick, short gasps.
Had she been crying?
She continued, her voice remaining soft but the words coming out haltingly. "Daddy, I need you."
I felt my stomach drop. My daughter— my angel—needed me, and needed me desperately. But for a handful of times, she never called me Daddy. The last time had been five years ago when we had been at the beach and she'd broken her leg after falling off a piece of driftwood. As she lay on the ground I had heard her wailing, "Daddy, help me! Daddy, I need you!"
Immediately, I felt fury build up in me toward whatever had hurt her. "What happened and how can I help?" I asked darkly.
Bella didn't respond for a few seconds, though they seemed like hours to me. Had I frightened her? "Bella?" I asked gently, keeping the fury out of my voice. "What do you need?"
I heard a quick sob on the other end of the line and she quickly asked, "Can I come live with you?"