Salat ist sehr gut :33

The ride in the ambulance was mostly silent. Uncomfortably cold for a confined space with more than three people.

Edward was talking quietly with the paramedic about Mike’s condition, and confirming known injuries, to which the paramedic nodded along and gently prodded the boy, wiping his head of dried blood and dirt.

Charlie cleared his throat and spoke up.

“So, Mike,” He said apprehensively. “What… happened? How’d you get all the way out there?”

Mike, who had looked relatively calm, albeit a bit exhausted, now looked very uncomfortable. A sort of uneasy tension settled in his features as he fixed his eyes on the door of the ambulance.

“I—,” He started, the words dying in his throat and being put to rest on his tongue. His lips tightened into a line and his jaw twitched.

“I went to get the mail last night. I was just about to reach the mailbox when I just– I, I don’t even really know. Something very solid knocked me off my feet, and in what felt like an instant, I was being dragged off into the woods by my ankle. It was so incredibly fast, I, I mean, maybe i-it just felt that way because I was scared, but it almost felt like I was flying. Whatever had me had a hell of a grip, too.” Mike said, sounding hushed and anxious as he reached his right hand down and pulled up the leg of his jeans.

There, just above his ankle, were a collection of scabbing crescent shapes. Dried blood and mud were smattered against and below where the index and ring finger would’ve been.

“Jesus.” Charlie said under his breath. He felt his blood run cold. What the hell had him? It had to be a human grip, the layout was too familiar. But the marks were so deep.

“What happened after that? Did you see its face?” He asked the boy, his tone as gentle as he could muster.

Mike’s whole demeanor was rather anxious, and his mom held his left hand in a vice grip.

“It dragged me pretty far west– I, I mean I think it was west. I don’t really know. A lot of it’s pretty fuzzy, but I remember that after a while it stopped, and I tried to sit up. It barely gave me a chance before it locked my knees down and pushed my shoulders back into the ground. I tried to scream, but it clamped its hand over my mouth and shoved my head into the dirt. It was so dark, I, I could barely make anything out, but I remember it being very, very pale.”

He sounded upset, his voice almost strangled as he tried to push the words out. His mother tried her best to soothe him, stroking his muddied hair and shushing him.

“It’s okay baby, take your time.” Karen cooed to him, running a hand through his hair.

He took some deep breaths and nodded slowly, exhaling and looking up at Chief Swan.

“It’s alright buddy, don’t stress yourself out. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Charlie said quietly. Gosh there's no way he wasn’t stressing this kid out. Consolation was not a strong suit of his. He cringed at himself mentally.

“I-It just… God, I don’t even know what it was doing but one moment I could feel it’s cold breath on my neck and the next I heard just this– this, great bellowing growl. The guy, thing? I don’t know. It felt human, just.. Wrong, it— just not right..” Mike shook his head uncomfortably, shuddering.

Edward’s imposing eyes locked on Mike for a split-second and his jaw tightened. Charlie was sure that no one else noticed the motion, but something about it made his stomach churn.

“It was knocked off me by something else. Something real big. It looked like a bear. I didn’t wait around to find out, I just rolled over and booked it. I ugh… snagged myself on a tree, and after a while, I felt too cold and weak to run. I didn’t know where I was, and I just passed out against a giant fir.” Mike explained, gesturing to his deeply cut shoulder which another paramedic was cleaning and bandaging up.

The boy’s cheeks abruptly flushed a light pink as he cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder at Edward.

“Edward woke me up. He gave me his coat and picked me up, asking if I was okay and stuff. It was cool.” Mike said, his tone sheepish as he tried to come off dismissively.

Edward’s gaze softened slightly and the corner of his mouth tugged up into a little smile. He looked away from Mike, his gaze settling beside Charlie. Charlie knew he wasn’t even looking at him, but the proximity of his piercing stare made him feel claustrophobic.

“Good man, Edward.” Chief Swan said shortly, his tone genuine, but a bit stiff. Edward looked at him and flashed a polite smile.

Charlie’s heart stuttered. Why was he so uncomfortable? This kid had been nothing but kind, and yet something about his gaze made him feel… uneasy. There was a time back when, where he’d been helping the police station’s Canine Department train the drug dogs to attack on command. He remembered seeing this certain look in the animal’s eyes before they went for him.

The determination, certainty, domination; the look of a predator. Charlie shuddered softly and crossed his arms, looking away.

Eventually, the ambulance pulled into the hospital parking lot and Mike was wheeled out on the stretcher. It looked like he was pretty deep in conversation with Edward over the game that happened last night. Ah, right, he must’ve missed it. Charlie noticed something else shortly after; was the kid blushing? Either his mom didn’t notice or didn’t care, but it was pretty obvious. Something that felt ancient and long since buried tugged at his heart strings and the scene in front of him brought him back about thirty years or so. Billy and him sitting on the hot, ashy sand. Skipping rocks and laughing together over egging Mr. Egan’s truck. The glances they shared, the way that Billy’s hand always lingered on Charlie’s back just a little too long. The times they’d sneak off in the middle of the night and go skinny dipping around the north shore, the way that Billy’s dark eyes shone in the silver illumination of the moon.

Charlie quickly shook his head. No. No. What he felt back then wasn’t natural and he promised himself a long time ago that that part of himself would stay buried. He grew up, had a wife, and had a beautiful baby girl. He grew up. He grew out of that.

“Chief Swan?” Edward said abruptly.

Charlie jumped slightly, quickly bringing himself back to the present.

“Mm?” He responded, realizing quickly that they were now in the Urgent Care unit, Mike being helped into a bed and hooked up to an IV as nurses cleaned him up, assessing his wounds. He’d lost himself for a minute there.

“My father will be arriving shortly to help assess and file a medical report for Mike’s case.” Edward explained, his gaze locked on Charlie’s only momentarily before he crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder at the doors at the end of the room.

Ah, right. The infamous Dr. Cullen. He’d heard the ladies at the station gossiping and fawning over the guy. He thought it was pointless, and honestly, kind of distasteful. If he was this guy, he’d probably keep to himself and want to be left alone with his family too. He never really liked attention like that from women. Charlie could imagine that most guys would feel the same way.

The ER doors swung open and in sauntered Dr. Cullen, clipboard cradled in his left arm.

Charlie’s train of thought was immediately shut down. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his head. He couldn’t form a coherent thought and he felt his jaw drop slightly. He thought he might’ve heard Edward chuckle very quietly and then try to stifle it with a cough, but he couldn't be sure of anything right now.

Dr. Cullen was tall, broad shouldered and looked like the statue of David brought to life. His skin was as smooth as porcelain, and he had this short, wavy, flaxen hair that was styled back with meticulous care. He was the most beautiful man that Charlie had ever seen, and he hated that he felt that way. The ancient ache in his chest was back and it hit him with the force of a tank.

“Hello. Chief Swan, is it? What a pleasure. I’m Dr. Cullen. My family and I just moved down from Alaska.” The doctor said casually. His voice was like honey. Hauntingly beautiful, lingering in his ears so pleasantly. There was a twinge of something European in it, and Charlie forgot how to breathe. He was feeling overwhelmed and he hadn’t even said anything to this man yet.

“I’m Swan. Chief… Chief Swan, FPD.” Charlie said, fumbling over his words momentarily, feeling his face being set ablaze by Dr. Cullen’s gilded gaze. He held out his calloused hand awkwardly.

A sudden warm, genuine chuckle escaped Dr. Cullen’s mouth as he grasped Charlie’s hand in a firm, cold handshake.

Charlie felt his knees weaken like he was going to melt into the floor. He wanted to melt into the floor. He’d never felt so embarrassed and awkward in his whole fourty-five years on Earth. Dr. Cullen’s hand was so cold and smooth that it felt akin to marble. Charlie felt so many very uncomfortable things. He lingered just a little too long before he finally disengaged the handshake and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. The task at hand. Mike. Yes, Mike’s medical report.

“Alright, Micheal Newton. Looks like you got pretty sliced up by a tree, huh?” Said the doctor as he slid on a pair of blue latex gloves and scooted to Mike’s left side on his stool.

“Just Mike. And uhm, yeah.” The boy responded, lifting what was left of his t-shirt sleeve up to reveal the bandaged cut.

Dr. Cullen’s nimble fingers worked fluidly, while staying slow and deliberate, undoing the bandaging. His gaze was soft and calculating as he unraveled and began removing bloody gauze. Charlie thought he might've seen his nostrils flare slightly.

Mike hissed quietly, looking away.

Charlie heard the doctor give him a gentle, hushed apology as he cleared the last of the cotton from the wound. His voice seemed to make Mike loosen up a bit. The tension in his shoulders had dissipated marginally.

The cut was pretty ugly. A gash, and below it, a scratch, which matched up with the branch they found the ripped sleeve on. Blood leaked meagerly from the very middle of the gash. Dr. Cullen quickly and meticulously began cleaning the wound, dabbing blood away periodically.

“Looks like you’re going to need stitches, Mr. Newton.” The doctor noted casually as he spun around in his stool and began prepping.

Mike looked uneasy again.

Charlie was standing off to the side, next to Karen. He looked at her. She looked right back, nodded, and briskly made her way to Mike’s right side, holding his hand.

On the outside, he looked sympathetic, albeit a bit distant, but on the inside, the Chief was fighting a war with himself. He felt so many things that he didn’t even want to admit to himself. He was mad at himself, and confused, and he couldn’t help stealing glances at the doctor. Each time he caught himself, he added a tally to his board of sins.

Fuck, he could use a drink.

About an hour elapsed, and in that time Mike was sewn up, sent home, and Charlie made off with a written report of the kid’s injuries. He made his way to the station; to both hide from everyone, and to check the forest cams. Hopefully, he’d find some sort of lead about this maniac, and clear his head of all earthly desires while he was at it.

… 

Newton’s Olympic Outfitters

Charlie drove in silence toward the station. ‘North of La Push’ wasn’t exactly very specific, but he knew the general area well enough that he wouldn’t get lost himself. Rain tapped at the hood of his car like impatient fingers and Charlie couldn’t help but steal glances from his windows at the edges of the forests that squeezed the road he was on, praying for a glimpse of Mike. Oddly enough, he started to feel a little claustrophobic; as if the forest in all its entirety was slowly pushing in on him. The cruiser eventually made its way into its usual parking space in front of the station. The chief quickly got out and sped into the station. Okay, what was it he needed from here, exactly? Right, clock in, coffee.

“It’s 8:30 right now, so I’ll be quick and maybe make it to the search group by 9:00.” The chief murmured to himself before pouring some lukewarm coffee into a styrofoam cup and chugging it, discarding the cup in recycling as he walked past to get to his office.

Charlie still felt uncharacteristically uneasy. He was worried for the Newton kid, and at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel as if something or someone was watching him. He allowed himself a quick glance around before dismissing his feelings of paranoia. There was more than enough of that to go around already, he was sure of it. The chief clocked in, then made his very swift departure, hopping in his cruiser and making his way to the northern shore of La Push.

Crackle hum— "Chief Swan, come in Chief Swan.” The radio on his dash piped.

“I’m here, almost to the trail.” Charlie answered to the receiver.

Crackle— “We’re all about a mile in or so. Some people split off East to cover more ground. We’re a little off the trail going south west”

“Okay, thank you Steve. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up the receiver to his dash, and drove on, seeing a few more cruisers parked along the road in the distance. Speeding up a bit, he parked next to the nearest car and got out, locking it up and disappearing into the trees.

The trail was damp and sandy. It broke in several places from overgrown vegetation and disuse, but Charlie wasn’t all that worried about it, considering he was going off-course anyway to find his crew. The forest was vast, extensive, but Charlie had been roaming these trails since he met Billy back in 82’. He walked on past massive hemlocks and firs, and heard some voices up ahead.

“My baby, my boy, oh god I hope he’s okay.” Sobbed a very worried woman that Charlie quickly recognized as Karen, Mike’s mother. She was a smaller woman. Her hair was in disarray and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She looked cold, digging her fingers into her arms as she paced.

Karen soon locked eyes with the Chief and ran, throwing herself at him, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Chief Swan! My boy went out last night to get the mail and he never came back.” She explained quickly, crying into his shoulder.

Oh wow, alright. Charlie froze for a second before placing a gentle hand on the woman’s back.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Newton. We’ll find your boy. We’ll bring him back safe and sound.” He said softly, slightly uncomfortable. Comforting people wasn’t exactly one of his strengths, but he did what he could and took off his coat, sliding it over Karen’s shoulders.

“Keep it while we search. Y’don’t wanna catch a cold out here.” He said, clearing his throat sheepishly.

Karen wiped her tired eyes and nodded, smiling slightly.

“Thank you so much, Charlie.”

He nodded and walked slightly up ahead to his deputies and gave a nod.

“Steve, Hank. Have you found anything?” Chief Swan asked, glancing between the men. Steve looked at Hank, and his expression tightened slightly as he turned to Charlie. Hank nodded solemnly and pulled a ziploc bag from his pack. Inside the bag was what looked to be a ripped part of a shirt sleeve. It was caked with mud and dried blood.

Deputy Hank spoke quietly, his voice only audible to the two in front of him. 

“We haven’t shown Mrs. Newton yet. She’s scared enough. We found it hanging from a branch about a quarter-mile back. Blood’s pretty fresh. Something like this is odd, though. He had to have been moving pretty fast to tear off his sleeve like this. My guess about the blood is probably the very branch where we found it. Cut himself on it.” He speculated, sounding rather grim as he shoved the ziploc bag back into his pack.

“Half the damn town’s out here, looking for this kid. Even some kids from the res are looking. Started the search about three hours ago and that’s all we’ve found.” Followed up Deputy Steve, looking over his shoulder. “Even the Cullens are helping search.”

The who?

“Let’s walk and talk boys.” Charlie said as he trekked forth. “Who’re the Cullens?”

The deputies followed on either side of him.

“New family in town. They just moved down from Alaska. The husband’s a doctor and apparently he and his wife have five adopted kids.” Said Hank conspiratorily.

Steve piped up.

“And all of them are, like, really hot. Freakishly attractive. The wife? I’d be showing her off everywhere I went if I were him. Hah, I wouldn’t let her outta my sight for a second. But they’ve barely come into town at all. They seem kinda reclusive.” Steve added, wiggling his eyebrows.

Charlie was unimpressed.

“Steve, for one, don’t talk about kids like that, and secondly, women are people. They’re probably just adjusting to being in their new town and getting settled in. I didn’t take you two as the gossiping type.” Charlie narrowed his eyes slightly before stopping suddenly, finding a mostly faded track in the soil.

“Has anyone been over here yet?”

“Not that we know of.”

Charlie looked on, hoping to find some more tracks. He followed the indents he saw in the soft dirt.

“I’ve got a lead.” Chief Swan said in a hushed tone, following the tracks, being careful not to mess them up at all as he went. Charlie’s eyes weren’t nearly as good as they’d used to be, but they did the job well enough that he could see indents in the dirt. The prints looked heavier on the front, as if what made them had been running. Charlie’s stomach dropped slightly as he followed the tracks, the damp, grainy soil crunching softly under his boots as he walked faster. The only sounds now were his footsteps, pulse, and the occasional crackle of thunder. In the distance, off to the right, Charlie could make out a tall, gangly boy with greasy dark hair, in a coat that was much too big for him.

“MIKEY! It’s me, Eric! We’re worried sick, man! Yell back if you can hear me! I-I’ll come get you! Marco, bro!”

A long silence ensued and Eric covered his face, wiping his eyes on his jacket sleeve.

Suddenly, a very rich, smooth voice rang out from a distance westward. It almost had a melodic quality to it. Clearly not Mike’s.

“Polo!” The soothing baritone said in a voice just loud enough to hear.

Charlie froze and so did his Deputies. Karen, who had been a few paces behind suddenly screamed.

“MY BABY!” She exclaimed, sprinting towards a tall, lean figure who cradled Mike bridal style in his arms.

Charlie sped right behind her, towards the man who had Mike.

Instantly, Chief Swan was almost knocked on his ass by the teen called Eric as he zipped past and launched himself at the figure, hugging him and then grabbing Mike by the face, ugly crying and kissing his cheeks as Mike murmured something about him being embarrassing and limply moving his face from kissing range, clearly blushing.

Karen was doing something similar, hugging both Mike and the man that held him, sobbing and thanking the man.

Charlie was about to speak, but he was suddenly at a loss for words. This man could be the statue of Adonis. His skin was completely smooth and white. He looked as if he’d been carved from marble. His hair was a dark copper color, and too perfectly messy. What really caught Charlie off guard was the guy’s eyes. They were a striking butterscotch color, something akin to amber. He looked– mildly uncomfortable as these presumed strangers clung to and blubbered all over him.

Mike looked very bashful, likely both from being fussed over so vehemently, and from Eric Yorkie kissing his face. He was shivering.

“Ahem.” Charlie cleared his throat and stepped forward slowly. The man’s piercing golden gaze landed on him. He suddenly felt like he’d stuck his head in the fridge. Cold, and a little self conscious.

“Charlie Swan, Chief of the Fork’s Police station.” The baritone said pleasantly, before Charlie could even reach for his badge.

“I know who you are. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Edward Cullen. My family recently moved into town from Alaska.” He said, his voice remaining rather flat, but it was clear he was being sincere.

Before anyone could respond, Edward spoke up again, tone clinical.

“He’s cold, and there's a sizable gash on his left shoulder.”

Mike leaned up slightly to whisper to Edward, who naturally leaned his ear down to listen.

“Yes. Uh-huh. Mhm. Okay. He is very hungry. He would like some Chinese if possible.” Edward stated blankly aloud.

La Push; Summer of 82’

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—

RIIIIIINGGG!

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.

07:12am — Deputy Mark

You’re needed at the station, Chief.

07:45am — Deputy Steve

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.

…