Disclaimer: I do not own the twilight saga.

A/N: This chapter takes place completely in Greg's POV and i decided to back up the timeline a little bit. It starts off when he was leaving Bree's apartment the night of the car accident because i'm sure you all want to know what happened... So enjoy

Another Author's Note will follow :)

Greg POV

"I just need to go for a drive," I said, staring at Bree's hand pressed against the door. "I need to think about some things."

She stepped forward, closing in the small space between us. I kept my face turned away from hers; I didn't want to see the pain I was putting her in. "Please don't be mad at me," Bree whispered. I didn't say any kind of reply; I just wanted to leave… I just wanted to think. After a couple more seconds, she gave up. Bree sighed lightly—her shoulders slumping—and stepped away from the door.

The warm, summer air hit my face as I walked out of Bree's apartment and towards my car. I grabbed the car keys from my back pocket and hopped in. I hit the highway, not really sure of where I was heading. All I had in mind was just to drive and think.

I kept telling myself I wasn't mad… I wasn't mad. But, I was mad. Not at Bree, though. I wasn't even mad at Allison.

I was mad at myself. How had I been so stupid? From the time puberty starts, everybody tells you to "Be Careful." Pregnancy is one hundred percent preventable. But do all teens listen? Hell, no. Because we think we know it all and it won't happen to us. But it happened to me and I didn't even know it.

But I wasn't completely mad at myself. Somewhere in all the self criticism, I found I was mad at my dad. The anger came out of nowhere and I wasn't even sure why I was mad at him. Maybe it was the fact that the last time I'd seen him was… Hell, I can't even remember. Or maybe it was the fact that he's never been there for me. It just irritates me that he sends me checks piled with zeroes to make up for lost time. That's probably the worst part of our relationship—if you can even call it that. It's like he thinks he can pay me off or something.

A few years ago, probably around the time my parents got divorced, I decided I would never be like him if I ever had a kid. I would never tell the kid that I never cared about them. I would never try and give them money every month to make them feel better. I would always be there for them whenever they needed me; no matter what.

I don't want to be a dead beat dad for this baby… my baby. I want to be there. I want to meet him. I want to take care of him. I don't want him to have to live a whole life without knowing who the real father is. I'd always thought that maybe if I never knew my dad, it would make my life a whole lot easier. But now, I think what really matters is just having a father figure there. Someone to idolize from; someone to learn from; someone you can talk to; someone who understands you.

I'd been driving for about an hour and a half and decided that I needed something to drink to get my mind off things and calm down. So, I stopped at the nearest bar in Port Angeles called Blind Pete. It was a typical kind of bar right in the shady part of town, complete with a gang of bald-headed bikers decked out with tattoos, a guy sitting at the corner playing acoustic guitar for gas money, a group of potheads smoking the night away, and two drunk girls falling over a cocky old dude with a receding hair line. I stepped out of the car, the strong scent of clove cigarettes and alcohol drifting up my nose, and headed right inside.

I took a seat at the half-empty bar and waited for one of the bartenders to come up. A few moments later a pretty woman with brown hair and blue and black streaks walked over me. She was wearing a tight, red midriff t-shirt with name Danni printed in black on the front, exposing a snake tattoo on her side. Danni (I assume that's her real name) stared at me suspiciously for a moment before finally saying something.

"How old are you," she asked.

"Twenty-one," I replied quickly; maybe a little too quickly.

Danni narrowed her eyes. "Let me see an ID."

"I didn't bring it with me…"

"Mmm Hmm… What's your real age, kid?"

"Eighteen."

"That's what I thought," Danni said, grinning. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the bar. "I tell you what," she whispered; her breath smelt sweetly of peppermint. "We can pretend you're twenty-one tonight. Just between us, okay." I nodded. "So, what can I get you, babyface?"

"Um… a beer would be fine."

"Comin' right up," she replied cheerfully.

It only took a short moment for her to fill up a glass and set it in front of me. I took one sip and then another, hoping it would calm me down. It did, but also made me think even more about how mad I was. Danni had walked down the other end of the bar to pour a couple of glasses of scotch for some men. I kept my eyes focused on a picture of a skull and crossbones drawn into the bar when she walked back over to me.

"You look a little down in the dumps," she said. "I think you might need something a little stronger than a beer."

"Like what?"

Danni smiled widely and turned around to grab a tall black and silver bottle. She grabbed two small shot glasses and poured a clear liquid out from the bottle; it looked like vodka. She picked up the glass closest to her and threw it back quickly, not even flinching or squinting her eyes like it burned. I followed her lead, drinking the liquid from the shot glass without thinking. It burned terribly going down. I coughed, thinking I was going to have to spit it back up it was so nasty.

"Ugh," I groaned. "What the hell is that?"

"Vodka," Danni answered simply.

"That is not vodka. I've had vodka before."

"Not Russian vodka apparently… It gets better the more you have."

"I don't think I should drink anymore of that. I do have to drive home," I replied.

"So, what's bothering you, sweetheart," Danni asked. "Whatever it is you can talk to me about it. I'm known for being a good listener."

She pulled up a stool from behind the bartender's area and set it across from me. I took a quick swig of beer and sighed deeply. "I just found out my ex-girlfriend has a baby," I finally said.

"Well, congratulations," Danni replied. "How far along is she?"

"She had the baby three months ago." Danni nodded her head in understanding and I continued, "Turns out, I'm the last one to know. Even my current girlfriend, Bree, knew before me. And now, she says that she doesn't even need me to take care of the baby. She doesn't want my help; she doesn't want me around."

"Well, lots of guys would be happy if their baby mamas said they didn't need them… So, what else is bothering you?"

"I want to be there. I want to help. I want to be in this baby's life. It's just frustrating to know that she doesn't need or want me there. I don't want to be like my dad."

"Oh, I see," Danni said, tapping her chin with a manicured finger. "You want to know what I think you should do?"

I shrugged, "I guess."

"Leave it alone. If she doesn't want you there, she doesn't want you there. Listen to the girl. Maybe give her some time and talk to her about it at another time. Maybe you're just overreacting."

I took another drink of beer. Maybe Danni was right. Maybe I was thinking about it too much. I was overreacting. If Allison says she doesn't need me around, then why should I bother? Why should I be complaining about this? It's not my problem anymore.

I checked the time on my phone, seeing for the first time that Bree had called me four times; I'd been gone for almost three hours. "I should go," I said. "Thanks for listening."

"Oh, no problem," Danni said smiling. "It's a part of my job description."

I nodded and stood to leave, placing the money for my beer on the bar. A few sprinkles of rain were beginning to fall as I walked out of Blind Pete, promising myself for the second time in my life that I would never drink again. The guy sitting on the corner playing guitar was still there, so I tossed a twenty dollar bill in the can he was collecting money with.

"Thanks, dude," he said.

"No problem, man."

As soon as I was in my car I hit the highway, heading in the direction of Tacoma. I needed to apologize to Bree for the way I acted; I shouldn't have run out on her. My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I struggled to get it out as I kept my other hand on the steering wheel. "Hello," I said, not even bothering to glance at the screen to see who was calling.

"Greg… I'm so sorry," the beautiful voice on the other line said. It made me smile. She was just the person I wanted to talk to.

"Bree," I said, sighing. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have overreacted like I did. It was just a lot to take in."

"I know. Maybe I should have told you, though. I shouldn't have listened to Allison."

"No," I replied. "You were keeping a secret for her because she wanted you to. You did the right thing. Everything's fine."

"You're not mad me," she asked.

"Of, course not," I answered sincerely. "It doesn't matter, okay. I love you."

"I love you, too… Where are you?"

"Um… On the outskirts of Port Angeles. I'm on my way back there."

"Okay. Bye."

After Bree and I were done talking, I tried placing my phone in the nearest cup holder with my eyes still on the road, but I missed. The phone ended up falling on the floor of my car and sliding somewhere between the brake and accelerator.

"Dammit," I mumbled. I made sure the road ahead was clear before I bent down using one hand to search around for my phone while making sure my other hand was still holding the steering wheel tight. It wasn't an easy task and probably the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. But I still couldn't reach the phone; I couldn't see. I bent down in the seat a little further, finally spotting the phone right under the brake pedal. That would have been a disaster I needed to use it.

I sat up quickly and placed the phone in my lap, noticing a sharp turn ahead on the highway. I turned as fast as possible. But it was too fast; I'd jerked the steering wheel too hard and I couldn't stop my car from sliding against the road. The rain made highway slick, causing my car to spin uncontrollably into the opposite lane. I saw the lights, but my brain didn't register that it was large truck coming towards my spinning car until it was too late.

The impact of the crash was so strong that my seatbelt snapped. I felt my body fly forward; my forehead hit the windshield brutally. My car flipped off the road, going airborne and sending me to the backseat. The car continued flipping until it landed with a crash in a wet, muddy ditch. Glass from the windows clashed everywhere as the back of my head hit something hard.

The car was finally still and everything was quiet. I couldn't move. I couldn't feel my legs, my arms, my feet. The only thing I could feel was the intense pain running through my head, making me dizzy; it was like the worst headache I've ever head. I felt something warm dripping down the side of my face. Blood.

I heard footsteps running towards me. I could barely see the silhouette of a man through my half-closed eyes. "Oh, man," he said. "Hey, can you hear me?" I wanted to respond but my mouth wouldn't move.

"Oh, shit," the truck-driver said. "Alright, I'm calling for some help, okay. Just stay awake, man." There was a short pause and then he continued speaking. I could tell he was panicked. "Hello. Yeah, we need help quick; there's been an accident... I don't know what happened. This guy's car was just spinning out of control and I couldn't stop my truck! I ran into him and he flipped into a ditch. Just come quick! He's not moving… Alright. Yeah."

"Help is on the way," the man said. "Just stay with me. Don't close your eyes."

I tried keeping my eyes open, like he said. But it was so hard. I felt so tired; so weak. I kept myself concentrated on other things to stay awake. The sound of the rain. Sirens in the distance. Tires screeching to a stop. Hastened footsteps. Voices.

"Alright sir, can you hear me," a new voice asked.

"We're gonna get you out carefully and put you on the stretcher."

"Stay with us."

"Keep your eyes open." The bright lights inside the ambulance helped. A man was holding my chin, shining a small flashlight into my eyes. My head was pulsating with pain from the back of my head to my forehead. As soon as he let go of my face, I could feel myself succumbing to a painful darkness; I couldn't stay awake much longer. I just wanted to sleep.

I could see a woman sitting on the other side of the stretcher I was lying on. She was holding my black wallet. She opened it and looked at my ID, showing it to the male paramedic. "Greg, we need you stay awake," he said. He took my wallet from the woman and began looking through it until he found a small paper. He flipped it around, showing me a recent picture of me and Bree; she was smiling as I kissed her cheek.

"Is this your girlfriend," he asked.

"Bree," I whispered. I could barely hear myself. The pain was getting worse, making it hard for me to keep my eyes open.

"Good, good… We're getting a response out of him."

"That's right," the female paramedic said. "Think of her. Your girlfriend. We need you to stay awake for her."

I kept my half-closed eyes on Bree's face. But soon, I felt my eyelids becoming heavier and I couldn't hold them open anymore. The voices of the paramedics faded as I finally let the darkness take over and I knew that could only mean one thing. I was dead.

~.~.~.~.~

Or at least, I thought I was dead. Something was… off. Weird. At some moments I could hear voices, familiar and unfamiliar. At other times I could feel. I could feel my legs and my arms, my hands and my feet, my fingers and my toes. I could even feel pain. A dull burning kind of pain. I could feel my body being moved, set on something hard, set on something soft. And that whole time I kept my eyes closed because I knew I was dead.

At then, the oddest thing happened. I felt my heart beating out of my chest, so strong and so quick that I thought I was having a heart attack. But I knew that couldn't be the case. I was supposed to be dead. I never knew death was supposed to be so torturous. The heart flutters continued, faster and faster, until it my heart stopped. It just completely stopped.

There was silence all around. I didn't know what to do… except open my eyes.

And there she was, standing over me, looking down with the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen. So, this is heaven. Angels that always look like Bree. I should have opened my eyes a long time ago. But wait a second, heaven was supposed to be bright. So why was it night time?

I sat up quickly, very quickly—as soon as I thought about it, I was sitting up. I looked around and down, surveying my surroundings. Why was I wearing a suit? Why was I sitting in a casket? What happened?

I flinched when Bree's hand touched my shoulder. "Greg," she whispered. I immediately relaxed when I heard her say my name. "I know you're confused," Bree continued. "Do you remember anything that happened?" I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out; my mouth felt so dry, so I nodded instead. "Do you know what's going on now?"

I nodded again, though I was still unsure. If what I'm thinking is right, then that means I'm a vampire. It feels odd saying that in my head, but it explains the freakishly fast movements and the thirst. I climbed out of the casket, faster than I needed to and stood in front of Bree. We both stood there, looking at each other in a whole new way. Bree looked so different, but she was the same. Everything was just so much clearer than before.

Bree took a step towards me. "Do you remember who I am?"

I smiled and lifted my hand slowly to stroke her cheek. I tried to speak again, but nothing came out. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth for another attempt. "Of course," I whispered. "You're Bree. My angel. My everything. The reason I'm here. And I love you."

Bree smiled. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. When she smiled it was like my whole world lit up and all I can do is stare. I stepped closer to Bree, placing my hands on her face as she leaned in towards me. Our lips pressed together gently; her lips were soft and warm and fit perfectly with mine. Her delicate, little hands slid up my arms, grasping my shoulders tightly. My hands were down at her hips the second I thought of it. I pulled her closer to me as she deepened the kiss, tickling my bottom lip with her tongue. My hands were everywhere, grasping and groping her places I shouldn't. But, when you miss someone for so long, you just can't help it.

"Jesus," a deep voice from behind said, interrupting what I will definitely consider the best kiss I've ever had. I turned my head sharply towards where it came from. There was a tall, darkly tanned guy with short black hair standing at a distance with a disgusted—yet amused—expression on his face. I remembered him from somewhere. What was his name? I thought back hard to my past life; to a time I didn't really like to think about when there was no Bree. This guy had been there, bringing the comedic relief to my depression. Remember him. Remember…

"You two need to seriously calm down," he continued. "I didn't come here to watch vampire porn."

"Seth," I said, grinning.

"Well, it's good to see you remember me," Seth replied, grinning as well.

I nodded and then realized there was another person outside with us. I wondered how I hadn't heard or smelt her before. Who was she? I couldn't seem to remember her; something about her confused me. Maybe it was the way she looked so much like Bree. Her heartbeat quickened as she noticed I was paying close attention to her. Even in the dark I could see the delicate blush that rose to her cheeks. If I paid close attention, I could even hear the faint movement of blood through her veins. It was enough to make my throat burn with that terrible thirst. I felt my vision zoom in towards this girl.

Nothing around me mattered anymore. I could hear Bree trying to say something to me and I saw Seth move in front of the girl protectively. But that didn't matter; I knew I could take him down if I wanted to. The girl kept her blue eyes on mine. I could almost feel the fear radiating off her body. And she knew… she knew that I was the hunter and she was the prey.

It would be so easy, I imagined. Like in all the movies. I would take her small body in my arms; brush back her dark hair to expose her fragile neck…

All she had to do was just… Come to me

A/N: I apologize for my author fail yesterday when i was sending out replies to review. I got confused and thought it was wednesday instead of thursday (It's been a stressful week). Sorry if that confused you.

I hope the ending of this chapter wasn't too confusing. I'll probably be able to clear up what Greg's doing to Stella in the next chapter. How do you guys feel about having something written in Stella's POV? I think it might be very interesting. Well, make sure to review and tell me what you thought of this chapter. It took me a while to write it. Hope it was worth it. Remember signed reviews get sneak peeks :)

And... I just got a blogger account and i've already started writing stuff on it, so if you have time, go check it out. You can read all the weird crap i like to talk about and just figure out what i'm up to. You can also check out a picture of this guy that i think looks alot like the greg i see in my head. The link is on my profile if you ever decide to visit (it's also my homepage).

So... press that review button because it makes me so so so so so so so happy!