A/N - this story follows the canon back stories of Esme, Rosalie and Bree, so will contain frequent references to abuse (and, less frequently, sexual assault). I will not necessarily put a specific trigger warning on each chapter - if these subjects trigger you, it's probably best not to read on.
The first few chapters are set before "The short second life of Bree Tanner", and then it will continue fairly seamlessly after the end, with a slight obvious adaptation.
I've realised since writing that I've changed some details from book canon - all the Cullen children are still in high school in this story, though in the books, Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper graduate before "New Moon" (the films follow the same timeline as this fic though, hence my confusion!)
There are other things I've intentionally changed (e.g. from Bree's back story) to make my story work, but I've tried to keep as close to canon as possible!
Bree POV (takes place before "The short second life of Bree Tanner")
I dragged myself across the kitchen floor to the counter and used a drawer handle to pull myself up to a sitting position. Every inch of my body ached. I was fairly certain some of my ribs were broken, and my wrist throbbed painfully whenever I tried to move it. Blood dripped down the side of my head, and I winced remembering my skull making contact with the corner of the countertop at high speed.
I'd thought the first night in a new state might have given me a free pass. I wasn't sure what I'd done to warrant this particular beating, though I'm sure the generic excuse of "it's your fault we had to move from Idaho" would suffice.
This was more than I could deal with using only my meagre first aid kit. I needed to go to the hospital, but last time I went to the hospital, word spread fast and somehow my dad found out about it. I guess that's always a risk when he works there. I shivered. The punishment for going to hospital had almost put me back in there again. It didn't seem worth it. Dad hadn't even started work yet, but word would spread fast and he would definitely find out some day. No, going to hospital was not a sensible option. Or at least, not here in Port Angeles. But perhaps I could make it to a different hospital. As far as I knew, dad didn't know anyone at Forks General Hospital yet, so perhaps I'd be safe there.
Dad was completely passed out on the sofa. I doubt he'd hear me sneak past but the idea of passing within touching distance of him sent shivers up my spine. I took a couple of deep breaths and plucked up every ounce of courage I had left. I had to do this. I had no other choice. I needed medical attention, and there was no way I'd get it with my father's permission, so it would have to be without, and this was my best opportunity to find it.
Attempting to stifle my groans, I gritted my teeth through the pain as I pulled myself up. A wave of dizziness hit me and I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop myself from throwing up. This was going to be harder than I thought. I waited for the dizziness to pass, holding on to the counter for support. Eventually, it subsided and I cautiously took a step towards the lounge.
Still no sounds, and I didn't lose my balance. I quickly covered the remaining distance to the door and held on to the doorframe for a rest. I was exhausted. How on earth was I going to make it all the way to a hospital in a different town when I could barely manage the walk across the kitchen.
I gritted my teeth again in determination. I had to do this. It didn't matter if I died trying, I was dead if I didn't. I surveyed the room in front of me through the open door. My car keys were hung on a hook to the side of the door, which was about 5 metres away. I had a clear path to the door; there were a few bottles dotted around which I noted. It wouldn't do to trip or knock those and wake up my father.
Two more deep breaths and I was ready to go. I half-limped, half-ran the 5 metres to the door and grabbed the car keys. I took another shaky breath and began slowly turning the lock of the front door. One satisfyingly quiet click later, and the door gently swung open. I took one last look back at the great lump of a man sprawled undignified across the sofa, and silently slipped out into the night.
I had a few hours before my father would notice anything wrong. Hopefully, he'd sleep through until late morning as usual, and would assume I was at school. Maybe I even would be at school in the morning. I laughed without humour, and then groaned. Right, broken ribs. No laughing. And probably no school. The chances of the hospital letting me out in time to sneak home and grab my stuff before making it to school on time was practically 0. And I'm not sure I wanted to spend my first day of a new school in pain having just come out of hospital. Oh, and I wasn't registered for a school yet. Ugh, that was another thing I needed to do pretty quickly, or face the wrath of my father for neglecting my education.
I staggered across the driveway to my car and plipped the lock open. Exhausted, I sank into the drivers seat as my vision blurred. Driving was going to be difficult, and probably not particularly sensible in my current condition, but what other options did I have. I guess I could walk a bit way away from the house and call an ambulance? I patted down all my pockets. No phone. Great. Back to terrible plan A, driving. I think I knew how to get to Forks – it was straight down the one main road in this area. And presumably, Forks, like all the tiny towns in the Olympic peninsula, was built along one main road, so finding the hospital shouldn't be too hard.
I just hoped I could physically make the drive there. I only had my learners permit, but I was a decent driver for my age. I turned the key in the engine and noted the time: 12.47am. At least there shouldn't be too many other road users around for me to put in danger. I put the car into reverse and quietly slid off the driveway and turned onto the main road. Driving as fast as I dared, I covered the miles to Forks pretty quickly with minimal issues. My left wrist hurt whenever I tried to use it, so I mostly drove one-handed with my left arm cradled close to my chest. As I reached the outskirts of Forks, I slowed to search for signs to the hospital. After a couple of wrong turns, I eventually made it and pulled into the almost empty parking lot.
I shut off the engine and sat in the car, steadying myself. What was I going to say? I couldn't use my real name, that was for sure – I definitely did not want them to be able to contact my father. I probably shouldn't tell them I'm only 15 either, as they'd try harder to find parents if they thought I was a child. Could I pass as 18? I was pretty small…. But that seemed the safest option. The chances of them believing anything I said was slim, but if I stuck to my story, they'd have no grounds to call social services or try to dig much further.
Taking one final steadying breath, I pushed open the car door, yanked myself out of the car, and slammed the door shut. I held onto the roof for a couple of moments to steady myself, and then determinedly set off across the car park.