Blood, Sweat, & Tears(The beginning of my Charlisle fanfic!! :3)
The relentless cover of clouds was beginning to shatter, rays of warm sunshine spilling down across the beach, making the ashy white sand almost glitter. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time the sun had kissed his cheeks so gently, nor the last time the wind had mussed his hair so fondly. He closed his eyes and breathed in the salty breeze.
“Ah. S’been awhile since we’ve gotten any sun. I was starting to think it’d rain forever.” Said a familiar, comforting tenor.
Charlie’s eyes snapped open and he turned, only to see a boy who seemed around his age. The boy had deep, dark eyes, tall cheekbones, coppery skin, and very long, shiny black hair. He smelled earthy and herbal. He must be from the reservation.
“Name’s Billy Black. You’re Swan’s kid, right? Ha. I’ve seen you fish around here.” Billy remarked with casual interest.
Wasn’t that just his luck? Running into the Quileute chief's son. He was so toast.
“Oh uhm. Yeah. Good carp ‘round them woodsy streams.” Charlie said, feeling a little guilty. He hadn’t exactly gotten permission to fish in the reservation.
Seemingly reading his mind, Billy chuckled and slapped a calloused hand to Charlie’s scrawny shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell as long as you don’t snitch about me playin’ hookey.” He said, grinning slyly before leaning back on his palms. Charlie couldn’t help but notice a tattoo on Billy’s toned chest. He quickly tore his eyes away, forcing himself back to the conversation.
“Ha! No, no, I’m no narc.” Charlie giggled in response. God did he really just giggle? That’s awkward. He felt like he was ruining his first impression.
“Good.” Billy said contently, seeming distracted momentarily before following up.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but there's something really important I gotta say. Don’t fish in the woods. Near the shores is much safer.”
Charlie was caught a little off guard. Safe from what exactly? Bears, he guessed. But they really didn’t bother people very often. He began to protest, but something in Billy’s tone told him he probably knew better than him.
“I— won’t. Hah, y’know, my dad told me the same th—”
Charlie was interrupted by a sudden sharp, harsh cold-front that almost knocked him off the driftwood he’d been sitting on. The clouds quickly began to strangle the last of the sun and bleed rain. Wind licked the sky’s wounds deeper, and in what felt like an instant, cold rain was pelting him. It just kept getting colder.
“W-what? Jesus— Billy?” Charlie stood up and tried to wipe away enough of the wetness to catch a glimpse of the boy, but to his astonishment and horror, Billy was melting into the sand, a hand gripping and tugging at sand until it was nothing but.
The ocean became aggressive now. Waves were crashing hard against the shore, nipping, clawing, crawling closer, growling with each slap against the ground. Charlie tried to run, but to his dismay, roots grasped and tangled themselves around his ankles snaking up and pulling him down.
“HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY, PLEASE!” Charlie screamed and cried as he was dragged into the sand, down and down, the crushing weight against his chest making breathing impossible. He tried to suck in a quick breath as he was pulled under, but there was no space left in his lungs. His blood pounded and gushed in his ears. And then came a ring. Then a second one, louder. Then louder, and—
Charlie’s eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply. He sat up in a cold-sweat, and ran his sweaty hand through his hair. He felt thirty years older. Hell, he was. He sighed, looking up from his quilt, squinting at the window, which he quickly deemed useless as sheets of rain obscured pretty much anything he’d see from the looks of it.
His phone had been ringing moments earlier. Right, work. It amazed him how easily he could disappear into his head. He picked up his cell, flipped it open, and checked his missed messages.
You’re needed at the station, Chief.
Newton’s kid disappeared last night. We’re forming a search party north of La Push. You can follow the trail and catch up if you wake up before 6pm.
Jesus, Newton’s kid? He remembered meeting the little bugger when the Newtons moved in and opened their store. Kid’s name was.. Mickey? No, that couldn’t be right. Mich? Mike! That’s what it was. God, he had to be about Bella’s age by now, right? That made something uneasy turn in his stomach. He couldn’t imagine how worried he’d be if his Bella got lost in these woods.
Charlie pushed himself to the edge of his bed and quickly stretched. His back bothered him, as usual, but right now he had bigger fish to fry. He made toward his dresser and dug around for a while, finding a semi-clean uniform and slipping into it. He made his way down the stairs, deciding against brushing his teeth. He was in a rush, and this kid was probably scared and alone. Charlie slipped on his boots, zipping them up before grabbing his vest off the coat rack. He tugged it on and snagged his keys off the table. The chief walked across the wet gravel to his cruiser, cold rain pelting him all the time.
(Lmk what y'all think of the first chapter!!)
