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Chapter 1: Reborn

Bree POV

Before, there was nothing. Now, there was pain. Not like the pain of the transformation; that had been a fire, ravaging through my cells, killing every human part of me. This was different, like I was being compressed, like I had been scattered in millions of pieces before, like now, I was coming together, being squeezed together, until I took form. What was happening to me?

Time passed. I didn't know how long; time was meaningless to me. It could have been seconds, hours, years. But, gradually, I became aware of a few changes. I found that I could move, that I had a body to move, though it felt as though it must have been squished to pieces by now. I found that I could think through the pain, that I could remember. I didn't want to remember, though. I didn't want to remember Diego's death. I didn't want to remember the attack or Jane's burning gift or Felix ripping me to pieces and burning me. I had accepted my death; why was I hurting now?

There were other things I remembered, too. The kindness of the yellow-eyes, how the mind-reader and Carlisle had even pleaded against my death to the dark-cloaks, the Volturi. The fierce pleasure when I realized all the rest of the coven was dead, that Riley and Victoria were dead. Those moments with Diego, when we'd explored, when we'd listened, when we'd discussed, when we'd kissed. I clung onto that memory, hoping it would get me through this. That was, if the pain I was feeling ever ended. Now, I wasn't sure if it would ever.

But, gradually, the pain did begin to fade. Whatever this pain had been was ending. My overwhelming sense of relief was tempered by my fear of what was coming next. Was I dead? Would my torment be replaced by nothing?

After what seemed like eternity, the crushing pain lifted. I opened my eyes, and immediately noticed two things. One, that around me was the forest where the yellow-eyes had met the Volturi. The forest where I had been killed; the scene was almost like that of my death, except there was no one around. This was secondary, though, to the other fact. My throat was burning beyond belief, more than it had ever before, filling me with the urge to drink blood, any blood I could get.

There was a faint rustling to my side, and my head whipped in that direction, the instinct for self-preservation overpowering, for a moment, the thirst. The scent flooded my nose, and I relaxed. It was only a herd of deer. Then, the thirst came back on full force.

Oh! I was so thirsty! My throat burned beyond belief, but there were no humans around to saturate the thirst. No hearts beat near me, except the slightly accelerated thumping of the hearts of the nearby deer. It didn't smell appetizing, but I was sure it was the only source of blood nearby.

The breeze shifted, and my instincts took over. I pounced on the first deer, drinking its blood. Eww! It tasted horrible! But it wet, warm flavor quenched the thirst, so I kept on drinking, promising myself some human blood later. Except, what was later? Where was I going?

I killed three more deer, drinking their disgusting blood, until my thirst was pretty much quenched. That was strange, too. The burning had been reduced to almost nothing, which had never happened before, in my second life. I was actually able to ignore the thirst!

I had a destination, as if it had always been in my mind. The place where Diego had been killed. I wanted, no, I needed, to find him. Without Diego, I wasn't sure if there was anything else worth existing for. If I was dead, which I was pretty sure I was, given that the Volturi had killed me, then Diego and I would exist in the same world again.

I was running, running back along the path my coven had taken on our way to the yellow-eyes. I had to get back to Diego.

As I ran, I thought through what I knew. Was I dead? My logical mind kept jumping to my death, to the large vampire, Felix, tearing me apart, showing me proof that I was probably dead. But there was some part of me that questioned that belief. Was I in some sort of afterlife, then? But, why would there be deer in the afterlife? Why would there be such horrific pain? Why would my throat have hurt, then be quenched by animal blood?

If I was dead, why would there be the scent trail we'd left behind on the way to the yellow-eyes? If I was dead, why would everything be the same as how I had left it in life?

I pushed all these thoughts from my head. Diego. Diego. All that mattered right now was Diego. Not even blood, real, human blood, could distract me from the boy I loved.

In a fraction of the time it had taken us to arrive at the yellow-eyes, I was back at the place where we'd spied on Victoria and Riley. The place where we'd first seen the Volturi. The place where, I was pretty sure, Diego had died. A thousand fears flooded into my head. What if he wasn't there? What if he had left? What if he had never been in this world to begin with? I pushed them aside. He was there. He had to be there.

I opened the door, preparing to see his beautiful red eyes, his thick, curly black hair, but he wasn't there. There was no one in the gingerbread house, no one and nothing, except a small pile of ashes. I realized what they must be: Diego's ashes. They'd tortured him and they'd killed him, and now, he was dead. What had I expected, I berated myself. There was no way Diego could be here. No way…

But hadn't I thought, earlier, that if I was dead, I must be in the same world as Diego? Surely fate wouldn't be cruel enough to separate us after death! Unless… Unless I was still alive.

But that was impossible. I had died! But that would explain the thirst, the similarities, the fact that Diego wasn't here. If I had, somehow, been brought back to life.

An absurd thought came to me. Could I have brought myself back to life? As I thought about it further, though, I realized that, there was a chance it had happened. Hadn't Diego and I talked about vampires with powers? Hadn't the red-haired vampire been able to read minds? Hadn't Fred been able to repel people? Hadn't that Jane been able to torture people with her mind? Was it possible that I had a gift as well, a gift to bring people, vampires, back to life?

Was it possible that I could see Diego again? I knew that I would do anything, anything, for even the slightest glimpse of my love again.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the windows. I looked normal: short, dark brown hair, ultra-pale skin, shadows underneath my eyes, yellow eyes - wait. Since when did I have yellow eyes?

I moved closer to the window. Two honey colored eyes stared back at me, eyes that were definitely mine, though the color was all wrong. I had crimson eyes, just like every vampire in the world… except the yellow eyes.

Could they have been brought to life again?

I quickly rejected that theory. From what I knew, vampire eye color wasn't dependent on life, it was dependent on thirst and age. Our eyes were bright red when we were first transformed, and would darken as we grew older. When we recently fed, they would turn brighter again. But why would they turn gold?

Diet… Blood… Disgusting, deer blood. That had to be it! I hadn't drunk human blood when I had first woken up, I had drunk deer blood! My eyes must have turned gold as a result of that! The yellow-eyes must survive on animal blood, rather than human blood. But why? Why would anyone condemn themselves to drinking horrible, disgusting animal blood, when they had the choice? Blood couldn't be it.

Except, maybe it could. Hadn't the brown-haired woman, hadn't Esme, protested when Jasper, the scarred blonde, wanted to kill me? Hadn't she said, 'We can't just murder her in cold blood,' as if murder was avoidable? Could it be avoidable for her and her family? Could a diet of animal blood be the reason why they, and now I, had yellow eyes?

Well, that was one mystery solved. My mind, inevitably, fell back to Diego. If I could be reborn, maybe I could bring Diego back to life, too. But how?

Feeling kind of silly, I closed my eyes and focused on Diego, every part of him. His curly brown hair, his barely-perceptible olive skin, his red eyes that were darker than mine had been, before my rebirth. I focused all my energy, all of the strength that had come from those four deer, onto bringing him back. I imagined running my hands through his curly brown hair, running up to him and hugging him, kissing his cold lips. I gasped, and fell to my side. The pain I'd felt before I'd first woken up was back again, but there was one key difference. I knew, somehow, that if I wanted, I could stop the pain. I could stop bringing Diego back, I could let him be dead again. When I'd brought myself back to life, I had had no choice; self-preservation had overruled all else. But this, bringing someone else back to live, wasn't an instinct, it was a choice of my conscious brain. And so, it took all my willpower to keep myself in the state, using the power I know knew beyond belief was my supernatural ability. Because what else could it be?

I knew exactly what my ability was doing: reversing the damage Riley and Victoria had done to Diego. I was holding on to Diego's consciousness, Diego's soul, keeping it from flying away to whatever place the souls of the dead went after their seven days in the living world. I was reconstructing Diego's body, squeezing the fragments back together from the ashes, unburning it. That was where the compressing pain had come from. I knew how long it would last, one day, and how much longer I had left to bear this. Diego is worth it, I told myself, over and over again. Diego is worth it.

I could sense it when it was almost over. I could feel the pain beginning to recede. I knew when Diego was almost alive again, almost complete again.

After what seemed like forever, but what I knew was only a few minutes, it ended. Gasping quietly, I opened my eyes and sat up. In front of me, glorious and disoriented, was Diego.

I looked into his eyes, and suddenly, I was sucked in.

Staring at me, with awe in her obsidian black - since when had they turned black? - eyes, was Bree. "What happened?" I asked her. Why had this torture ended? What would come next? "Are we dead?"