She Walks Where Angels Fly

Chapter One

A beautiful stranger changes Bella's life in all the (best and worst) ways.

The ocean had been violently upended and was now spewing the contents of it's vulgar depths onto the feeble land and it's occupants. The streets were flooded, the land turned soupy as debris and mud pooled forth from the woods, carrying forth branches and small trees that could not weather mother nature's sorrows. Not a single ray of light came forth from the sky, the clouds ominously crowding over Forks, Washington, like they were trying to threaten people into submission. And they had all but won. The townsfolk were used to rain but not this much. Forks wasn't Florida and it most certainly wasn't Arizona, Bella griped internally as she emptied the full plastic bucket outside her window before pushing it back under the dripping spot on her ceiling. Several other bowls and buckets she had placed strategically around the house needed similar emptying.

While it poured outside, the rattle of rain on battered foliage and roads, inside only the steady plop of water in containers and the hum of the rain outside could be heard, Charlie's TV set on low so his game wouldn't disturb Bella's efforts to do work. Not that she could get much homework done. She was distracted by the terrible weather.

It was not only wet, but chilly, and the house had no heat, the heater gone out weeks ago, it's last dying breath just helping them make it through February and leaving the house's occupants fending for themselves for the remaining frigid months.

Sighing, she closed her book and huddled the blanket around her shoulders better. It was ratty and smelled unclean. But she had dug it out of the back of her closet because fresh linens were running out too. The washing machine and dryer were asthmatic at best, spitting out clothing like phlegm from within their depths, refusing to engage with them, and Charlie hadn't been able to get a repairman in this weather for a good week.

Bella went downstairs, hoping a snack might refresh her mind and make her body generate some sort of heat to keep her warm.

Charlie was sitting in the dim glow of the living room. All but one light bulb had burned out, casting the already sad room into an even sadder state. The couch had stuffing falling out, and Charlie's favorite armchair no longer reclined, the mechanism broken. He held a can of lukewarm beer in his hand, squinting and trying to make the football game out through the static of the TV. He'd never bothered to upgrade to cable and though he complained about the quality of the broadcast all the time, he didn't change the service.

"How's it going, Bells?" he asked with only half his attention. He wasn't bothered by the cold, wearing a flannel over his Forks PD shirt and a pair of loose sweats. His gray socks had holes in them through which one of his toes was sticking free.

"If this weather goes on any longer, I'll turn into a fish," she mumbled sarcastically as she trudged to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Old Chinese take out stared back at her and she scowled. Even if she wanted to make dinner later, she'd have to drive to the store and buy some ingredients. She might as well go now, given she couldn't focus on any of her work.

"April showers bring May flowers," he tells her, taking a loud slurp of his beer.

She closed the fridge door. "At this rate, they'll be no land left for flowers to grow in."

He grunts to that and she leaves him to his game, dropping her blanket off in favor of reaching for a jacket and replacing the two on the coat hanger in the hallway. She jingles her keys, so he knows she's leaving.

"Where you going, Bells?"

"Shopping."

"Need some cash?"

"I'm fine." She has about thirty dollars in her pocket; she always keeps money there just in case of anything.

"Alright, be careful out there. The roads are slippery."

He doesn't need to tell her twice. She leaves the house, staring in dismay at the rain. Somewhere off in the distance, thunder rumbles. She didn't bother to bring an umbrella. It's as useful as bringing a feather to a gun fight. She flips the hood of her jacket on and rushes out to her truck. By the time she gets in, she's soaked and shivering. She starts the car up, blasting the heat.

She's happy the truck is working. It's not exactly brand new or even second hand. Her father had bought it off of a family friend and then Jake had come over and tuned it up a bit for her. Still, despite all that, it broke down on a frequent basis and caused her to be late more often than not to school. This time, it had turned on smoothly and she's grateful; she was worried the rain might have ruined the engine.

Carefully, she pulls the car out of the driveway and drives down the road, to the local grocery store. It's only two in the afternoon on a Sunday, but she has to turn the headlights on. She can't see a thing in the dark.

She parks the car in the lot, not surprised to see it empty save for the employees cars. Nobody wants to be out in this weather, vehicle or not. She rushes out, her coat which had partially dried on the twenty minute ride over, becoming soaked again. She tracks water into the store, earning the scowl of Mike, whose face lights back up when he sees it's her.

"Bella, how was your swim?" he jokes as she drips on the linoleum floor.

"Ah, you know. Did ten yards in a min," she responds, knowing none of what she said made any sense. "But, sorry about the mess," she gives a small apologetic smile, looking at the puddle forming under her rain boots.

"Don't worry," Mike waves his hand and finishes restocking the last pack of gum at the register shelf. "Store's been empty nearly all day. Not much to do."

"Just you and your dad?"

"Yea," he confirms, crossing his arms over his chest. Mike's a good friend of Bella's, mainly because Charlie's friends with Mike's father and they go fishing on the weekends. Mike and Bella knew each other from a young age before Bella moved away from Forks during her formative middle school years only to come back to finish high school here and live with her father while her mother remarried and started her new life with her new man.

She can't say she's too happy about this, but seeing how her father lives and takes care of himself, she's glad she's back. How has he survived by himself with TV dinners and beer only to fill his soul where his family should be? Bella had to take care of him; it was the least she owed him for raising her when her mother and he were still together.

"I won't take long then," Bella says and Mike leaves his station to accompany her on his way down the aisle to get the mop.

"How's the house holding up in this weather?" Mike asks, knowing the sad state of Bella's house.

"It's...holding," she admitted with a shrug as she perused the aisles in idle interest of what she should get. "Got more holes than not, but we're just hoping it holds until we can get it fixed."

"It's crazy; we've never had rainstorms this bad since my parents were kids."

"Might be global warming," Bella says off handily, pulling a box of pasta off the shelf. She frowns and puts it back. She's made pasta the last two nights in a row. She doesn't want anymore of it.

Mike imparts one last thing. "Ya know, my mother always said when the weather's this bad, it's because Heaven is weeping."

Bella scoffs at that but doesn't reply.

Bella comes back from the grocery store, thirty dollars lighter and three bags heavier. She rings the doorbell so Charlie can get up from his chair and help her bring them in, even if she has the keys to open the door. He takes the wet plastic from her, careful to minimize the drip on his way to settling them down in the kitchen. Bella sheds her coat and rain boots and sets about putting the groceries away while Charlie returns back to the game, a fresh can of beer in his hand.

Bella puts the groceries away, only leaving the ones she needs right now. Within half an hour the house smells great instead of dank and yeasty. Bella plates the cooked chicken and peppers with a side of ready made mashed potatoes and they sit down to eat.

"How's school going?" Charlie asks as he gulps down the food hastily.

"Fine."

"Adjusting well? I hope none of the kids are giving you any trouble." There is a hint of protectiveness in his voice.

"I'm fine, promise," she sighs not up for this discussion. It's been hard coming in the middle of the school year, in her second to last year and having to adjust. But she's doing her best. She's caught up in her classes and she's made one or two friends not from her childhood that she can talk to.

Discussion sort of fizzles out there since they aren't quite sure what to talk about. Bella doesn't mind the quiet. It's better than always having to fill a silence like she had to with her mother. Bella wasn't the talkative type. She enjoyed slow moments of peace.

With dinner finished, she let her father clean up the dishes and she went upstairs to empty out the full buckets out the window before attempting to do her work again. As she's doing it, she feels something wet and cool slide down her hair. She looks up with a weary sigh and sees the telltale sighs of another leak. She blinks as it plops down cool on her face. Another weary sigh leaves her lips as she gets up to find another bowl to contain the mess.

She takes to doing her work on her bed, spreading her books out around her, scribbling down on paper her notes. This isn't a bright idea as the comfort of her comforter makes her eyes heavy. She shakes her head and tries to remain focused but eventually her head droops too many times and she falls asleep on top of her chemistry book.

She's awoken what only feels like moments later by a loud boom. A loud boom that sounds very close by. Her head jerks up, the page sticking to her cheek, and she pats it off. She looks wildly around herself, finding it's much darker than before. Her clock tells her it's one at night and she groans out, dismayed. She'd slept and hadn't finished her work before school.

She crawls off of her bed and is surprised when Charlie opens the door to her room, standing in his shorts and loose shirt. His hair is mused up. "Bella, did you hear that?" he asks, hands on hips. She notices his gun holster is there. He must fear danger.

"Um yea. You know what it was?" she asks, her slow heart rate picking up.

He shakes his head. "I don't know. I'm going to check it out." He goes downstairs and she goes after him, careful to be silent. The downstairs is even darker, and the drip drip of water into buckets accompanies them. They get to the door that leads to the back porch and both stop collectively.

From deep in the woods, they can see something bright glowing. It's not fire; it has an artificial quality to it. But they don't know who would be out in the woods this late at night. "I'm going to go check it out. There shouldn't be anyone on our property this late at night."

"I'm coming with," Bella says because she's curious.

"Bella, what if it's dangerous," Charlie tells her, furrowing his brows in worry over her.

"Then shouldn't I be with you to make sure nothing sneaks up on you?" she asks and he shakes his head. "I'm a cop, Bella. I have training. You don't."

She relents and he goes upstairs to change into his uniform and get his flashlight. She keeps looking out into the light. It seems to be pulsating right now. Almost like it's humming. She strains her ears but she can't be sure she's not making up the sound of it. Her hands trails on the screen door and she feels an urge to run outside and to it. The longer she stares, the stronger the urge gets. Her other hand is on the knob but before she can turn it, her father is back. She jumps as his words pulls her out of her stupor.

He's wearing his police windbreaker on top and he's all businesslike. Charlie must think this is serious if he's dressed up. "Stay here. I'll call if anything. But don't follow me," he instructs strictly.

She nods her head in understanding and moves aside so he can leave. His feet squelch as soon as they hit the mud and then he's gone, the dark of the woods swallowing him up in but ten strides.

She stays there and waits, noticing the light grows dimmer and dimmer in time. She wonders what's there, and if whoever was there is running away because they know Charlie is coming.

Bella worries over him but she also trusts him to be alright. He's a good cop.

She shivers a bit from the cold coming in through the screen door but sits there and stays put, listening intently and watching the moving foliage, thinking each blow of wind rustling it might be her father coming back. The rain falls steadily the whole time.

It's not until half an hour has passed that Bella begins to worry and thinks of calling her father to ask if he's okay. Just as she pulls out her phone, heavy crunching stops her.

She can see her father's figure stumbling through the trees. He's hunched over and he's carrying something. But what? Bella turns on the porch lights as her father starts yelling at her. "Bella, quick, call an ambulance." As he steps closer to the light, covered in mud and drenched, Bella spots the reason for his urgency.

In his arms, he's carrying a woman.

A/N: A new Rosella fic, with a different concept than I've written before. And not one I've seen for Rosella (so far). Hope y'all enjoy it.