A/N: This is one of many prequels for my first fic The Sun Never Sets, it is how Chris, my character became a vampire in the first place. There will be seven chapters for this prequel, then I will also upload the same story only from Carlisle's point of view. This goes along with the actual fic so if you havent checked that one out I hope you do. I'm proud how both came out. I am a history major and the Second World War is a particular interest to me, especially the events of the London Blitz so I tried to keep this prequel as historically accurate as possible. Hope everyone enjoys it.

London, England

November 14th 1940

One month into the German airstrike on London known as the London Blitz

"Oy, Chris, wait up," I turned as I heard my name being called, it was my best pal Michael running down the hall toward me as I gathered up my jacket and book bag. "Thought you left without me mate," he huffed out of breath.

"Naw, jus' trying to get out of here 'fore Mrs. Kingsley spots me,"

"What does she want with you," I turned Michael so he was facing the wall just outside our classroom, where a notice had been posted. "Oh, the Christmas pageant,"

"Aye, you see the reason now Mikey boy?" I paused and slipped my jacket on, much to big on me, as it belonged to my father, but it was better than nothing with rations for clothing being so tight, 'sides he had no use of it…he had his military issue. "Now, quick 'fore she spots us!"

We turned to make a dash for the door, when I heard her heels clicking on the floor, getting closer, I turned around…my mistake. She was angry, even though she was smiling. I'm excellent at reading people's body language on how they may be feeling and while her smile said one thing, her eyes and posture told a completely different tale.

"Mr. Callaghan I was hoping to catch you before you left." She said sternly.

"Yes Mrs. Kingsley?" She is one of those teachers who freeze your insides just by looking at you, she's Mike and I's secondary teacher for our ninth year and also in charge of the schools choir.

"You were not at practice today, do you have an explanation for your absence." I kept my face smooth, but felt my heart pick up speed. Sometimes Mrs. Kingsley reminds me of Count Dracula, she has this undead look about her, especially when she is angry, I bet she would even make Mister Churchill quiver in his boots if he was to face her.

"I spoke to the headmaster ma'am and told him I would not be singing in the choir this year or any years to follow."

"Excuse me?" My heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to jump right out of my chest, but I had anticipated this confrontation earlier in the day by reading her face every time she looked at me and therefore had plenty of time to prepare my counter reason.

"Ma'am I am nearly fourteen. With my father off serving I am planning on finding my own way to serve and support my mother, my father, and my country, the choir just isn't important to me anymore, I'm sure there are plenty of others who can take over."

"Is not important?" she shouted and Mike flinched, but expecting this kind of reaction from her, I did not. "Mr. Callaghan must I remind you how important our Christmas pageant is to not only the students and faculty of this school, but to those who are in need, this Christmas more than ever. With everything that is going on we are fortunate to be having a pageant at all. I expect you to be at practice tomorrow afternoon ready to sing. I hope you're mother never hears about this, I assure you this is the kind of behavior I expect from an ungrateful spoiled child, not one from a family such as yours, with your father doing his part to help us defend England against the Nazi's whom if I must remind you are particularly fond of killing the innocent. I expect you as Dr. Callaghan's only son to do your part as well and that means lifting the spirits of wary folks on Christmas Eve!"

She turned around on her heels and marched off, Mike looked terrified, but I simply shook my head after her, I could read her like an open book and I was not afraid of her.

"Bloody twit," I muttered.

"So you really not going to sing this year?"

"Oh don't you start," I replied shoving him gently as we walked out of the building. It was late afternoon, so it was just beginning to get dark…but it was cold… very cold. Winter was in London with a vengeance.

"So, we still on for our football match tomorrow?"

I nodded

"If I can get out of the bloody choir…"

"What will your mum say?"

I shrugged

"Don't know, never thought to ask her 'bout it. She always encouraged it, my father on the other hand, he really doesn't care one way or another…I suppose I can ask him when he comes home for leave for Christmas, just need to stall Kingsley till then, its only three more weeks till he comes home, I think I can avoid her till then." We were nearing our parting way…I live about a mile from the school, Mike just around the corner.

"Hey, Neil and his sisters got shipped out," I turned to stare at my best friend…Neil lives on my street, and we pal around together, unlike Mike and I, he hates sports, won't play football with us or even cricket, but he comes up with these glorious plays for football that always win us the game. "They left yesterday,"

"I was wondering why he wasn't in class today, where'd they go?"

Mike shrugged

"no one knows, not even their mum. She wont find out till they get there." Mike kicked a piece of shrapnel left over from a bombing early in the week. His little brother has been collecting shrapnel and the little bugger is obsessed with the idea, he actually tried to slug me once when I when I went for a piece in front of the school, so I was surprised that he didn't pick it up.

"Henry done with the shrapnel then?" I asked

"Naw, he wants to get it himself, little prat… he gets kind of shirty when we bring 'em home for him. Apparently it hasta be a particular, he threw a fit when his mate Sam brought him a piece 'fore he left for the country…though mum thinks he just didn't want his best mate to go without him…" Mike paused and looked up at the sky "My mum wants me an' my brothers to go too," he looked at me "what 'bout your mum?"

I sighed.

"She was talking it over with some of our neighbors…and I told her that I wasn't going anywhere." I paused and kicked the same shrapnel "I promised my father that I would look after her and the house while he was gone…I can't do that if I'm out in the country somewhere. Though my aunt and uncle offered to take me in. But their all the way up in Glasgow, that's to far for me to look after my mum properly."

"My mum's really considering it, 'pecially after the other night, our neighbors house was flattened, whole family gone, they were still pulllin' out bodies when I left for school this mornin'."

Years before, I would have been horrified at this news and even felt sympathy. But unfortunately events like that were becoming daily occurrences something we were all getting quite used to.

We both looked up at the gutted buildings around us,

"I don't know how much more London can take…" I said softly

"My mum says that as long as Saint Paul's stands, there will be hope in London," he made a face and we both started laughing, but I had to agree with Mike's mum…my mum says the same thing. I looked down the street, where I could just make out the dome of the church. "Well, I best be gettin' home, my mum doesn't like me comin' home after dark, she's afraid I'll be flattened by a stray bomb."

All of us had heard that order from our parents. An air raid could begin at any moment and the last thing you wanted to do was be caught outside of a shelter during one.

"See you tomorrow then," I said adjusting the strap on my book bag. He nodded and gave me a wave, heading towards his street just around the corner.

I took a deep breath, allowing the cold November air to fill my lungs, I enjoy the cold, probably more than I really should, but the feeling of the sharp cold air entering your body, it gives you the sting of realization that you are alive.

The street was empty of people and the sun was nearly set, the lamps were beginning to come on and I quickened my pace. My mother was going to be worried and if I came in late I was in for it.

I didn't hear the siren at first, I was so used to the noise that it didn't stand out like it should have, the warning bells in my body reacted slowly.

The first thing to react was my heart…it began beating faster and faster, as the siren wailed it's warning…the lamps began to dim and go out…slowly. However there was just enough daylight to see what was going on…Off in the distance, I saw the distinct shape of Focke-Wulf fighter planes…Nazi bombers, the Luftwaffe, they were coming in for another attack on London.

"Bloody hell," I swore under my breath. Quickly I looked around for a shelter… anything that could hide me. Suddenly my mind went blank, I couldn't remember where the nearest shelter was…there was an underground entrance nearby…but bloody hell, I couldn't remember where it was…and I knew I'd never make it home before the bombing started-

That thought was hardly through my head when the first group of bombs were dropped. The ground shook beneath my feet and the air filled with smoke. I made a dash for one building, but it was worse off than the other houses, it would provide barley any protection, if anything, it was a standing deathtrap…

Damn!" I ran around the street, desperately looking for anything…anything that could constitute a shelter, that was the first thing we were taught when the bombing started in September, take shelter anywhere you can find it, better to be buried alive than crushed to death…

Panic was setting in, my heart was pounding so hard I couldn't breathe… not that I wanted to, every breath brought with it the smell and taste of smoke and burnt rubber.

Finally. I saw it…a cart…no it was a bench, a piano bench, partially buried under a pile of rubble…with just enough space for me to crawl into. I hesitated for a second, weighing my options, if I had longer to assess the situation I probably wouldn't have made the decision I did… but the bombs were getting closer, the ground was shaking more violently. Death was certain if I stood out in the open like this.

I made a dash for it, dropping my rucksack in the process and my gasmask gas. The bombs continued to drop I could hear them all around me, but I couldn't look, my focus was getting to that bench.

I slid to a stop and pain shot up my leg as the street shredded my trousers and bit at my knees. Feverously I dug through the rubble giving myself more of a crawl space and dragged myself in.

I pulled my knees to my chest and covered my head with my coat. Outside my shelter I could hear the bombs falling and the explosions, whistling and crashing matching each other beat for beat. I prayed that they wouldn't gas us, knowing that my protection from that, issued only a month ago was ten feet away near my bag.

Despite these sounds, I focused on something else, I had to focus on something or else I would be counting down the explosions until one landed on me. I focused on something I had wanted to give up less than fifteen minutes before… I began to softly sing a Christmas carol that the schools choir always sang…a song that I have been singing since I was seven years old, my father's favorite Christmas carol.

"Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away…Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold. Ding" boom, another bomb, closer that time "ding dong…ding" booom, Oh bloody hell its here…I scrunched my body up tighter trying to block out the noise.

I felt the ground shaking and I held my breath listening.

A new sound filled the air, a sickening crunching sound…like rocks being rubbed together.

My eyes went wide with fear for a moment, before I tightened myself up, seconds before I heard the building collapse and felt it land on top of my shelter.

The small bench did little to protect me against the building as rubble crumbled on top of the bench, crushing me underneath.

I couldn't move, I could barely breathe, air was coming in, there was enough space for that, but the weight of the rubble was suffocating me.

My body was in pain, but I wasn't focused on it…I was so cold, but I felt strangely warm, I could feel my eyes closing and I didn't try to fight them as the darkness took over.

I don't want to die, not here, not like this…not crushed under a damn building, not freezing on the streets. I want to live a long time, grow to be an old man… see the world… I want to tell my mother I love her, I don't want her to have to identify my body. I can't leave her alone, not like this…she'll be all alone.

And my father… there's still so much I have to learn from him, he wants me to become a doctor like him…

I've almost mastered the Callaghan Scotsman, our family's equivalent to the Chinaman…I'm only the third in the family to do so, no one else can bowl left handed and right, 'cept my dad an' grandfather, we make an unbeatable Cricket team… oh dad….no… I'm so cold…I'm not ready to die I can't die like this.

This isn't the way I want to go…I want my chance to fight the Germans…serve my King defending Him and His family from those that threaten our Island…two more years…I can lie 'bout my age…enlist…fight for my homeland. No one can stop me, not my parents, not the Gerry's, not Death.

"He….Help…" The weight was so intense it was difficult to breathe, let alone call for help, but I wasn't going to die, not today, not here.

The bombs will stop and the medics and firefighters will be out searching for injured, opening up the shelters to release people. Someone will come…I just have to stay awake long enough for them to find… me…