Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Chapter One has arrived, obviously. (:

I just want to thank y'all for reviewing, favoriting and alerting the story. It means a lot. And a big thank you to the betas who helped me this time: Phoenixjedi and mycrookedsmile.

I apologize for the chapter's shortness. I'll try to make them longer as we go more into the story.

Again, if you knew this story as a one-shot I suggest you read the preface, it has changed.

Now enjoy.

Chapter One

"Edward! Come back in here, right now!" my mom screamed from the kitchen.

I cringed. I knew why she was calling me, I knew what I had done, I just didn't want to admit it. I had broken her favorite vase, the one my grandma had given her on her birthday. She would never forgive me, I was sure.

I ran down the stairs to the kitchen and hugged my dad's legs as in my life depended upon it. I closed my eyes tightly, wishing that somehow my mother's anger would go away.

I could hear my father's soft laugh as he patted my head lightly. "It's okay son, don't worry," he told me calmly. I knew it wasn't though. Mom appreciated her gifts more than anything else in this world, and Grandma's gifts even more. She would ground me and probably forbid me from playing with Emmett at his house for the rest of eternity.

"I didn't do it, I didn't do it," I chanted over and over into my father's leg.

"What didn't you do, Edward?" Mom asked slowly. "Why would you assume I called you because you did something wrong? Did you do something wrong?"

My eyes went wide at her words. Maybe she didn't know I had broken her vase yet and now she knew there was something wrong. Slowly I raised my head and looked at her soft and sweet face.

"Tell me, baby. Did you do something wrong?"

While looking at her I realized what I had to do. Maybe if I confessed she wouldn't be so hard on me and Dad would probably be on my side. "I- I broke Grandma's vase," I whispered so softly I wasn't sure she had heard me in the first place.

"How?" she asked, her voice graver, stronger.

"Don't be like that with him, he's just seven years old," my Dad argued on my side.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

Letting go of my father's leg I took a step back. "Da-" I started saying, but when I looked up he wasn't in the kitchen anymore. I turned to my mother to ask her where he went all of the sudden, but she wasn't there either. I was alone.

"Mom! Dad!" I screamed in hopes they would just appear again; they couldn't vanish on thin air, could they?

While running to the kitchen door something caught my eye. Turning to see what it was I came face to face with my mother's body, lying limp on the floor, Dad not far from her.

"NO!" I screamed.

My eyes flew open, my breathing was labored and I was sweating heavily.

"Baby, baby, are you okay?" her sweet voice said next to me. "It was just a dream, baby, you're here with me. You're okay," she whispered, moving so that her body was flush against mine. Slowly she started caressing my naked chest and humming softly for me. Her warmth always made me calmer.

I took a few deep breaths in hope of calming my furiously beating heart, taking in her familiar scent. She was soft and warm and everything I needed in moments like this. After so many years you'd think the nightmares would stay away, but they didn't. Twenty years had gone through by and it still was just as vivid as it was that very day.

"It was just a dream," she whispered into my ear again.

I sighed. Just a dream, that's all it was, just a dream. Not reality. Just something my mind had made up to remind me of the unforgettable. As if I needed it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she whispered after a few moments.

"It was just more of the usual," I whispered back. She didn't need explanations; she knew what it was about. It was always about them, always. "Though... I saw her face today. I usually can't, but I saw my mother's face this time," I said, an involuntary tear rolling down the side of my eye.

"Oh, baby," she said, sitting up straight and cupping my face in her hands. Her eyes were glassy, full of tears as she stared into mine. "It's okay now, it's okay," she chanted, hugging me tightly against her, like a mother would do to her child after having a bad dream.

Instead of speaking I, lay down again, bringing her with me. She put her head on my shoulder as I buried my face in her hair, breathing in and out as slowly as I could.

"Just try to sleep again, okay?" she said and started humming softly again.

I didn't want to sleep again, I didn't want to see it again, I didn't want to live through it for the millionth time since it had happened. But her humming made my body and my mind numb and I was actually very tired. After a late night shift at the hospital I was completely worn out, and my body gladly welcomed unconsciousness.

The sunlight and a hand running softly through my hair woke me up the next morning. Sighing, I opened my eyes very slowly, trying not to be momentarily blinded by the light. The first thing I saw was her beautiful smiling face and the first thing I heard was her soft, sweet, "Good Morning."

"Morning," I replied. In comparison to her sweet voice mine was hoarse and it sounded strained.

She didn't notice though, or she just chose to ignore it because after giving me a soft peck on the lips she jumped out of bed and started bouncing towards the kitchen. "Come on, I made us breakfast," she called to me with a sing-song voice.

Smiling I shook my head. She could be so silly sometimes, but at the same time she knew everything I needed. I hopped out of bed, put on a t-shirt, not bothering to change from my pajama pants, and went to the kitchen.

When I got there, I leaned against the door frame and watched her work her way around the kitchen. She was softly humming again as she set the table and put the dirty pans away. She was smiling widely and I knew it was because she had seen me watching her.

"Stop staring and come sit with me," she said, her voice mockingly stern, as she settled at the table.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied and went to sit next to her. She laughed loudly before handing me a plate with the most delicious scent of pancakes.

"I made your favorite," she stated proudly.

I smiled brightly at her, like a child on Christmas morning. Strawberry pancakes, definitely my favorite. I ate them like I hadn't eaten in centuries, while she stared at me trying to look like a scoffing mother, but the smile playing on her lips gave her away.

"So, where are we going?" she asked happily. Finally starting to eat her own breakfast.

"Hum?" I asked, confused, my mouth too full to talk.

For some reason her face fell. "You don't remember?" she whispered.

I held one hand up, asking her to let me finish chewing before speaking. Meanwhile I was wondering what I had forgotten that got her sad all of the sudden. And right then I remembered, I had promised her I would take her out today. "No," I said.

"Never mind," she said, angry now.

"No," I repeated. She looked up at me, glaring. "No, I won't tell you," I finished.

Sighing, she mockingly punched my arm. "Why do you always do that to me?" she whined.

I laughed. "I dunno, babe. But you always fall for it," I said laughing again, and. Thankfully she couldn't stay mad at me for too long as she joined in my laughter right after.

After having the best breakfast I could remember having in a while we went to the couch to watch the news of the day. She snuggled into my side while I put my arm around her, hugging her tighter to me.

Our news watching didn't last long as she started complaining about how boring it was and that it was making her sleepy, so we changed to a movie. It was not an easy task to find a nice movie on a Saturday morning, but luckily for us we found one, not that she watched it anyway. She ended up sleeping soundly in my arms exactly thirty minutes after the movie had stared.

In the end I didn't watch it either, as I found it much more interesting to watch her sleeping. I was glad to hear her whisper my name several times during the hour she slept on the couch next to me. "I don't want to," she said once, her face contorting into something close to pain, which got me frowning. I was just about to wake her up when she sighed softly and a content smile returned to her peaceful face.

It was close to noon when she finally woke up again, yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her hands.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," I whispered, kissing her head.

"How come I didn't get a wake up kiss?" she pouted.

I smiled and leaned into her, kissing her soft, pouty lips twice, teasing her.

I made a move to leave the couch when she grabbed my face with both her hands and kissed me fully on the lips. The kiss was more urgent, more passionate this time and I didn't mind. Why would I, really? When she started softly biting my bottom lip and sucking it into her mouth I pulled away.

I pecked her on the lips again before saying, "Nuh-huh," I shook my head. "Not now, it's time to go."

She pouted for about three seconds before her face lit up and she ran to the kitchen. "Should I pack us some lunch?" she shouted from there.

"Yes," I replied just as loudly. One thing I knew for sure about this woman, she loved the kitchen... well, and cooking, obviously.

I'd thought of bringing her to this beautiful place I had found on the forest quite a few weeks ago. But the first time I stepped there I felt this strange sense of deja vú and my heart started beating faster. It was like my body recognized it, even when my mind couldn't. At first I thought it was just my imagination, but after being there for the second time and feeling it all over again, I chose not to take her there.

So now here we were, on our way to Port Angeles. There was a park in the city that we could use for a picnic. I know we lived in Forks, and we saw green all the time, but we didn't have big parks there, probably because the town wasn't big enough. The park in Port Angeles, was certainly beautiful, just as the parks I remembered from Seattle.

With everything packed in the car's trunk we headed for the road. I turned the radio to a classical station, making her cringe next to me.

"Don't be like that, you like it, you just can't admit it," I told her laughing.

"Oh, yeah right," she said sarcastically.

"Come on, babe. What do you want to hear? The Rolling Stones?"

"That's wouldn't be too bad," she said grinning at me. She knew my problem with The Rolling Stones. It was odd because I had nothing against them, I really didn't. I just couldn't listen to them; they didn't fit my musical taste I suppose.

After a forty minute ride we were in the park. I drove quite fast, I had to admit, but I didn't worry about it, not anymore. She had stopped freaking out on me every time I went over the speeding limit, so I guessed she didn't care about it anymore, or maybe she had convinced herself that I wouldn't crash us both against a tree or something.

"Why the grin?" she asked me, pinching my cheek.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head and smiling at her.

We found a quiet place under a tree's shadow and settled everything there. The weather was just perfect. It was even a little too warm here -not that I minded. It was clearly not a common thing, because there were people everywhere. Kids were running around, screaming and laughing. Couples were making out, and some just walking hand in hand. It was a nice view, I would say, as I had always liked to people-watch.

We lay there for a few moments, it could have been hours that I wouldn't have noticed. We watched the people around us, we stared at the sky, trying to decipher what the clouds looked like. Her head was pillowed on the arm I had around her shoulders, as my other hand hold hers over my stomach.

"Look," she said pointing up. "That one totally looks like a heart."

I smiled. "Yes, it does," I said.

"Hey, let's eat something," she said, passing me a bottle of juice and a sandwich.

She was an amazing cook, I didn't know how she learned to cook, or if she even took classes. She never told me. Still, I was sure she made the best meals I had tasted in my life. It had been almost two years since I met her.

Funny how things work, I actually met her during lunch. I was on my lunch break during a stud session at the college's library. She just sat next to me, saying a timid "Excuse me."

I remembered that I nodded in acceptance, but said nothing. Another thing I remembered was that my sandwich tasted like hell. I had made it in the morning, and yes, I wasn't a good cook, at all; I couldn't even make sandwiches. Pathetic, I know.

She giggled next to me and offered me one of hers. I refused, of course, after all I didn't want to take her food and besides I didn't really know her. I had only seen her in one of my classes once, but that was it.

"Really, take it, I won't be able to finish anyway," she had said, pushing it to my side.

I thanked her, and extended my hand for her to shake. "I'm Edward," I said.

"Tanya," she said, shaking my hand slightly and smiling brightly at me.

Author's Note: Oops! Tanya? :O Who did you think it was? :)

Thank you for reading, please review.