It Don't Mean a Thing. Chapter 30: Charlie and the Wolf

[clara_eloise]

Title:  It Don’t Mean a Thing Ch.30 Charlie and the Wolf
Author: clara-eloise
Rating: M
Summary: Jacob takes Bella swing dancing. Edward is the instructor. A struggle for her affection begins that could start a war. Eventual Bella/Jacob.
Validation Beta: likexaxdove
Genre: Romance/Drama
Status: work in progress
Type: Multi Chapter




Leah Clearwater is seriously pissed.

As if my life wasn't already some frickin piece of shit TV movie sob story.

It sucks big time being that girl: the one who just was not good enough. The one who was tough as nails but gave her heart anyway when Sam Uley came calling, only to have him run off with her God damn cousin. She couldn't have written such a shitty soap opera script if she'd tried.

And now she's been landed in hoodoo-voodoo territory.

She is a wolf.

Frickin' great.

Welcome to the Family

That total douchbag Paul Lahote frickin had the nerve t smir at her.

Family? She already has Seth, okay? And it didn't help him behaving like a totally over-excited puppy. He'd seen way too many X-Men films not to be psyched about becoming the next Wolverine. He looked like he was going to wet himself with joy at the prospect of being a total freak.

And now her ex has the nerve to come up with the most hysterically ridiculous excuse for having dumped her on her ass Oh sorry, Leah, it wasn't you. It was me. When I became a wolf, I imprinted on my soul mate. It just was not my fault. I couldn't help it. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you.

To make matters worse, whiny Sam is apparently the big sucky chief of the wolves. So although she had particularly enjoyed sinking her teeth into his hind leg and hearing him whimper, she was also utterly humiliated to find that he actually had some control over her: this horrendous compulsion to do what he said. As if she actuall wanted o obey him.

And Leah has never been submissive to anyone in her entire life.

Ever.

So here she finds herself, storming on two human legs through the forest at the fringes of the res. Sam having ordered he - ordered her! ndash; not to leave La Push.

So she runs faster, and snaps off branches that get in her way. Throws boulders easily that once she would have struggled to even lift.

I a no weak.

She stops at the foot of a cedar and cranes her neck up, dizzyingly high, into the branches. He said she couldn't cross that line to leave La Push, but he didn't say she couldn't g up.

Leah jumps to grab the lower branch, pulls herself up and swings hand over hand through the canopy until she's standing, swaying slightly at the top of the tree and looking out over the forest floor.

Birds silence themselves for her, sensing predator, pure rage, or both.

It's cooler up here but all she feels is white hot fury burning inside of her, and nowhere to put it.

Opens her mouth to scream, and it comes out like a choked and mournful howl.

Charlie has never been one to give up easily when he knows something fishy is going on, but reservation politics can be tricky. Officially, La Push is policed by the tribal council - understaffed, underfunded, and quite clearly not Charlie Swan's jurisdiction as Forks Chief of Police. As a friend of Billy and Harry, he has been more than tolerated on the res, and often there have been times he's had to turn a blind eye to the odd illicit still or domestic blow-up. It makes his fingers itch at times, but what can he do? The Quileutes look after their own, as best they can.

Charlie had made a few tentative enquiries over at Department of Fish and Wildlife. It was as he suspected: there were known to be five packs of gray wolves in the state, all controlled and monitored. No red wolves or black wolves. And no known packs on La Push. But who was to say how the Quileutes saw their rights in the matter? Wolves were part of their heritage. He could see them justifying ownership the way eagle headdresses and snakeskin necklaces had been in the past in other areas.

So this is what brings him to go renegade on a Sunday afternoon while Bella is with her Mom in Florida. Trying to establish the extent of the problem. Telling himself that all he wants to find out is whether Jacob Black is up to his neck in this mess.

Not going rogue super-sleuth.

Just trying to protect his daughter from being eaten by a wolf.

This time, Charlie has brought a gun. Yes, he knows that wolves are known to be shy around humans, but these ar big olves, the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. He smiles wryly to himself as he remembers looking up the wolf identification guide- most people would mistake them for coyotes - realising that what he had seen was more the size of a bear.

Charlie fingers the spare cartridges in the pocket of his jeans. He's into the woods now, and the rain of the past few days has broken, leaving shafts of early spring sunlight starting to light up the forest floor.

He's a little embarrassed to be here. Hunting and fishing is common on the res of course. For the Quileutes. But here he is, alone, white and the Chief of Police. Stalking the woods in search of giant wolves.

He pauses, smooths his moustache and shakes his head. The wood is quietly mocking him.

Maybe he should just turn and head for Billy's.

Then he hears it - a distinctive howl coming from the east.

Charlie's heart kick-starts and he begins to run towards the source of the noise.

Leah refuses to cry. As if she'd let him have won. She is strong. She's a survivor. Hasn't she already proven herself? She'll find a way to make all of this end. To get away from Sam and all the other frickin' furry brothers.

She sighs, leans back against the tree trunk, and sways, as if up high on the rigging of a boat.

Then suddenly her momentary peace is disturbed as her senses kick in and she's aware of someone moving down below.

Dammit all to hell. Why can't they just leave her alone?

"Go away!"

Charlie hears the voice holler from above. It is angry. And female. He jerks to a halt.

"Uh…hello? Are you okay?" He scans the trees above until improbably, there is the face of Harry Clearwater's daughter.

"Leah? Is that you?" Christ, she's really high up.

"Charlie Swan?" Leah's voice is equally incredulous.

"Can you climb down, or do you want me to climb up?" Charlie hopes to God it's the former. He really doesn't fancy trying to play fireman up this giant tree.

Leah shoots him what he would describe as a withering look.

"You could just go away, you know." Her voice is sullen.

There is silence as Charlie scans the woods around him. He's gripping his rifle.

Leah sighs and begins to descend the tree. Has her Dad sent Charlie looking for her?

Charlie jumps inadvertently as Leah drops to the ground beside him.

"What are you, a cat?" He eyes her suspiciously.

"Why are you here, Chief Swan?" Leah's eyes narrow. "I don't need babysat."

Charlie still gazes around, alert for any unusual noises.

"Well, just call me Dick Tracy, but I would hazard a guess that something chased you into a tree. And as I have a rifle, it might be wise to accompany me home in case whatever it is comes back."

Leah laughs in his face.

"I don't scare that easily."

Charlie looks beyond Leah's bitter mouth to see her green moss stained t-shirt, denim cut-offs and bare feet. She's like a wood nymph. A really angry one.

"I'm sure you don't."

Charlie gestures for her to lead the way, gentleman that he is.

She stomps over the ground like she doesn't even notice she's walking barefoot on rough forest floor.

In fact, it's a struggle for him to keep up.

"So, how are you doing, Leah?"

She snorts in reply, tosses her black hair and loosens some leaves that have caught there.

He remembers then, all about her break-up with Sam Uley. Harry had told him how worried he'd been about his girl. How she'd spent months alone, silent and angry, refusing to eat properly, everything she said so cold and distant.

Another guy might have asked a bit more, tried to get her to open up and talk.

But he's Charlie Swan, so he just follows along behind her quietly.

They've gone on like this for ten minutes or so when she stops short, turns abruptly to face him. Charlie nearly crashes into her, it's so unexpected.

"You know, I really don't need this right now." She's got her finger up at his face. She's actually waggling it, one hand on hip. "Whatever my Dad has said to you…"

Charlie holds up his palms. "Whoa…"

"…I mean, you are not even tribe, and he's got you on my case? That's just beautiful. What the hell is your angle anyway?"

Her brown eyes look confused.

Ignoring her, Charlie takes off his checked shirt. Leah's eyes widen as he hands it to her.

"You must be cold."

"I'm not cold."

"Come on, it's freezing out here."

"I'm not cold. I'm…never cold."

That's when Charlie finds himself sitting on the forest floor with Leah Clearwater holding on to his favourite flannel shirt, crying her eyes out.

He awkwardly pats her on the back. Clears his throat.

Then she launches herself at his chest and sobs into him.

Charlie's eyebrows threaten to dive off the top of his forehead.

She's right though. She's not cold. She practically radiates heat.

For a few minutes Leah holds him, then she pushes against his chest with both hands and turns away.

"I'm sorry." Charlie's not sure what he's apologising for, but it feels like an official apology on behalf of the entire male species.

Leah glances at him from her dark brown eyes that are now rimmed red.

"You don't know the half of it," she mutters darkly.

Charlie shrugs. "I know how it feels to be left Alone. Forever." He says it jokingly, with a smile.

Leah wipes her eyes like she's disgusted with herself. Meets his eyes and gives an intense look which makes him feel like he's not so much of a foreigner any more.

She nods carefully, looks back at the ground. She's still gripping his shirt tightly.

"Did you ever get over it?" She hates herself for asking.

"Nope."

They look at each other then.

"You tell anyone that you saw me cry and I'll make your life a misery, Charlie Swan."

There is silence after this threat.

Charlie gets up and looks around. The shadows have lengthened but the forest still seems far too quiet for dusk.

"You know, your Dad didn't send me out here."

He offers Leah a hand, but she springs up by herself. Hands him back the shirt.

"Oh, so you just happen to be walking out in the middle of the forest for fun, huh?" Leah is back in her comfort zone of sarcasm.

"No…actually I was wolf hunting." Charlie smiles to himself, but when he glances at Leah, she is frozen.

"What did you say?"

Leah's eyes have suddenly become darker, fiercer. She actually looks a bit scary.

"Okay, look I know it's not of my business, but I know there are wolves being kept out here. I've seen them with my own eyes, so there's no point denying it." Charlie's suddenly switched to 'cop voice.'

"Kept….Kept?" Leah's voice rises a little, shaky. Her shoulders are starting to quiver too.

"Leah, are you okay?" Charlie reaches out to touch her shoulder, but quick as a flash she's flung his arm aside and…ow, tha hurts.

"I'm fine! I'm just fine! Why wouldn't I be?" Leah's voice rises hysterically, and she backs away. She's still shaking, in fact, it's gotten worse, and just as Charlie is about to wonder whether she's having some sort of epileptic fit, her whole body seems to flicker like a mirror lit with light, and pulse briefly, then there is a silent explosion where Leah stops being Leah and another form bursts out of her.

Gray.

Hairy.

Canine.

Charlie staggers back, tries to lift his rifle, but the animal is on him and he's flung back to the ground. All he can do is just lie there, dazed, as two paws pin him to the ground.

Charlie has always been known for being calm in a crisis.

You've got to be, right?

So he just looks.

Looks right into the eyes of the wolf as it looks back at him. Soft gray and white fur, granite eyes and a black nose.

His mind is trying to decipher what the hell just happened.

"Leah?"

The eyes of the wolf blink momentarily then neatly - almost daintily, the wolf steps off his chest. Sits back on its hind legs and begins to lick one paw.

Charlie sits up, breathless.

"Leah?" As he says her name for a second time, the wolf looks up at him, as if considering.

Charlie raises a hand, like you would to a strange dog, and the wolf looks at the hand, looks back at Charlie, then - swear to God - rolls its eyes.

Then, as if reconsidering, the wolf moves slowly towards Charlie and when it is close enough, licks his hand once, as if testing the taste, and finally snuffles against his chest just where Leah had previously being crying.

This is how Charlie Swan finds himself rubbing the ears of a giant gray wolf.

Much later, when night has fallen, Charlie switches on his flashlight, only to find the wolf grabbing it, and with one creaking splinter, chewing it up and spitting out the broken pieces.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" Charlie almost wants to ad bad dog.

The wolf cocks its head on one side as if to sa Are you stupid A noise comes from its throat a little like laughter, then it nuzzles against Charlie's side, against his hand.

Charlie reaches out and lets the wolf be his guide.

It does a good job, guiding him around trees - whining if there is an obstacle he might trip over. Although she does occasionally let a low branch whack him in the face and then there's that odd doggy/human laugh, husky like a smoker's cough.

Charlie estimates that they'll see the lights from the res fairly soon, and wonders to himself if the entire world will have changed when he steps out these woods. Or if this is a Grimm's tale that he'll wake up from.

Strangely, he can't remember the last time he felt so calm, so in the moment. It's as if he could go on, walking under the moon with this gray wolf, on and on for the rest of his life.

Just as he sees a flicker of distant light - a camp fire on the beach? - the wolf stops. He feels her quiver, and leave his side.

He's left alone in the dark.

"Leah?"

A few moments pass, and Charlie's elated heart begins to sink.

"Hey…" Her throaty voice calls out through the gloom.

"Could I have your shirt?"

"Where are you?"

"Just throw it. I can see pretty good."

Charlie takes off his shirt, throws it into blackness.

Next thing he knows, she's there beside him, shirt buttoned all the way up and nothing else on, just long slim legs and dark dark eyes. An unsmiling mouth.

Charlie wants to say something, but it's stuck in his throat.

Leah reaches over and takes his hand, leads him on again.

After a couple of minutes he realises she's making small circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. Charlie can feel his brain about to explode.

This is Harry Clearwater's daughter.

What age is she? Twenty?

And she turns into a wolf