A/N: Sorry for the extended wait, I went to Berlin last week! So, yeah, no time to write chapters

Also, this chapter is dedicated to my best friend Caitlin, who's been pestering me for updates!

Bella:

Face the ghost that keeps me on the ground

Take the best of what they talk about

In the cold outside we're waiting

To embrace the night to pull it close

Gonna feel the love you had

"The police have found Bree. She…she wants to speak to you, Bella."

I follow Carlisle downstairs, where he leads me to Bree's bedroom. I've never been in her room before; I didn't even realise it was next to Alice's. Carlisle pauses before we step inside and speaks to me in hushed tones.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Carlisle asks me.

"Of course. If she wants to open up to someone, and she's chosen me…well, I'm honoured," I tell him honestly.

"Ok, if you're sure." Carlisle takes a step back and motions for me to go inside.

I turn around and knock on the door before stepping inside. Bree is sat in the middle of her large bed, crying freely. Before, she couldn't wipe the tears away fast enough.

"Hey," I say. I take another few steps towards the bed, careful not to scare her away again.

Bree pats the bed next to her, so I gently sit down next to her. She's still crying, and while Carlisle said she wants to talk to me, I'd rather start of by comforting her.

"Do you want a hug?" I ask. Bree looks up at me with watery eyes before slightly nodding her head. I shuffle closer and wrap my arm around her, only to have her clutch onto me, as if she's afraid I'm going to run away. She cries harder against me as I hug her tightly. "It's ok, Bree. You're fine now; you're safe here with the Cullen's. I'm pretty sure Esme thinks of all of us as family," I tell her.

She sniffles as she moves away slightly, so I hand her a tissue. She takes it and then frowns slightly.

"I came prepared," I joke, showing her the pack of tissues I brought with me.

Bree wipes her eyes as her tears slow down. She bites her lips as she looks at me, seemingly annoyed with herself.

"It's ok, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," I assure her.

"I want to!" Bree shouts suddenly.

Abruptly, she stands up from the bed and starts pacing around the room. Her mouth opens and closes several times as she continues to pace around the room. I'm still a little in shock from hearing her speak. Bree looks just as shocked as I feel.

"I'm sorry," Bree whispers, fidgeting with her sleeve and avoiding looking at me.

"Bree, you don't have to apologise," I tell her.

"I do," Bree murmurs. "I should've have run away. I've been…well, I've been pretty horrible," Bree says, speaking a little louder now.

"No, you haven't. Not compared to how I used to be," I admit to her. She just looks at me incredulously. "I was a total bitch before I moved here. Even when I first arrived, actually," I explain. "Back in Seattle, I didn't actually have any true friends. I never let anyone in and no one really tried to get in."

Bree moves a bit closer to the bed, perching on the edge. "I don't believe you were that horrible. You've always been so nice to me. Always spoke to me and included me," Bree says. "I didn't deserve any of it," she adds.

"Yes, you did. Of course you did!" I tell her emphatically. "None of us deserved any of the horrible shit that happened to us, but it did, and now we're all there for each other."

Bree nods as a few tears fall down her cheeks. "Thanks," she mumbles, brushing away her tears.

"It's ok," I tell her, shuffling a bit closer. "Are you ready to talk about what happened?" I ask her cautiously.

"Before, when…when you were guessing about what happened. Well, you were right. I, um, I did have a baby brother. His name was Fred," Bree admits to me. "He was only three," she adds, choking on a sob.

"It's ok, Bree, take your time," I reassure her, placing my arm around her shoulders. I hand her another tissue and just comfort her.

"Our parents weren't the most…loving. To us or to each other. I mostly looked after Fred. I was more of a mother to him than his own mother," Bree tells me. "Father liked to drink a lot, and mother didn't care enough about anything to notice his awful behaviour. One night, he'd been smoking and drinking downstairs, so I took…I took Fred upstairs to bed early." Bree pauses again, bringing her knees to her chest and closing herself off from me. "I went downstairs to…to see if he was finished. If he'd passed out or something. That was usually what happened," Bree says bitterly.

She takes a deep breath and quickly wipes her face again. I soothingly rub her back as she gets everything out. I know after speaking to Rose and Edward how much better it feels to tell someone; to not keep it all bottled up inside.

"When I got downstairs, father was predictably passed out on the couch. But, he'd fallen asleep with a cigarette in his hand, which had fallen to the floor. The fire was spreading so rapidly, filling the whole of the living room. I didn't even think, I just got out of there and went to the neighbour's house to call a fire engine. It was only after I left, only after I was safe that I even thought of my brother!" Bree shouts, angrily wiping away tears. "I tried to go back in, but I was held back. It was too late, anyway. All the alcohol only fuelled the fire and soon the entire house was completely ablaze. I didn't even know until the police came that mother had gone to bed early that night, too. All I cared about was my brother. My baby brother, who I-"

"Don't. Don't blame yourself, Bree. How were you to know?" I interrupt her. "I know it's hard, but no one could have known what was to happen that night."

"I hated my father. I still do," Bree tells me, looking angrier than I've ever seen her. "The thought of saving him never entered my mind. He killed my brother and I don't…I didn't go to his or my mother's funeral. The only people that went were my grandparents. Whenever I think of him…"

"I know how you feel," I tell her. "I absolutely loathe my father. But neither of them can hurt us anymore, ok?" I remind her.

Bree looks at me before nodding meekly.

"Today was the three year anniversary of my brother's death," Bree says. "That's why I got so upset," she adds.

"So you were only 11 when this happened?" I ask, shocked. Bree nods. "Bree, you absolutely cannot blame yourself! You were only 11, looking after your 3 year old brother. You were still a child when this happened," I tell her.

"But-"

"No buts," I tell her, interrupting again. "I feel bad interrupting you after trying to get you to speak for so long," I add, grinning.

"It feels weird to be speaking again. I'd kind of forgotten what my voice sounded like," Bree admits.

"Can I ask you why? Why you stopped speaking, I mean," I ask her.

"I don't know, really. In school I didn't have many friends; Fred was the only person I really spoke to. I just felt like I let him down, and so I closed everyone out," Bree explains to me. "I want to thank you, though, for pushing me. Esme and Carlisle always tried to get me to speak but…I don't know. You just…You're so understanding. So, um, thanks," Bree says, glancing down at her hands.

"Thank you, too, for opening up to me. I know that must've been hard," I reply. "So, are you going to keep on talking now that you've started again?" I joke, smiling at her.

"Possibly. I have managed to get out of class presentations, though," Bree jokes back, smiling slightly. I don't think I've ever seen her so happy before.

"Oh, well, definitely keep up the mutism then!" I tease her. "Seriously, though, are you going to be ok talking to people?" I ask her.

"I might not start talking to everyone yet. That's still a big step. But, um, Esme offered me a therapist, so I think that'll help," Bree says.

"Definitely. I was reluctant at first, but it does help you," I tell her. "Now, how do you feel about a film night with Hazel and I?" I offer, grinning.

"Sure. I need to apologise to your daughter about running away from her before," Bree comments.

"I wouldn't worry. Hazel is incredibly forgiving," I grin. "I'll be back in a minute. You can choose a baby-friendly film, if you want," I offer.

I quickly make my way upstairs to get Hazel. When I enter my room, I see Edward lying on my bed, talking to Hazel who's lying on his chest.

"Hey," I tell him. His head quickly turns as he smiles sheepishly at me.

"She missed her mum. I was trying to appease her," Edward grins. I walk over and kiss Hazel's forehead and then Edward's lips.

"She certainly looks pretty content," I say in agreement. "Tonight, though, Hazel and I are going to watch a film with Bree. We're going to cheer her up, baby girl, aren't we?" I coo to Hazel. Hazel grins and pokes my cheeks.

Edward hands Hazel to me, but not before he places a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You're so sweet, you know that?" Edward tells me.

"Not as sweet as you," I grin back, pecking his cheek.

"Is Bree ok?" Edward asks as he reaches to grab Hazel's favourite toy from her crib.

"Yeah, she'll be better now," I tell him. "I'll see you in the morning, ok?" I tell him.

"Yeah, have fun," he says, kissing me once more and then kissing Hazel's forehead. Christ, he's too sweet.

Hazel and I spend the evening watching kids films with Bree, which I think Bree and I enjoy far more than Hazel does. She falls asleep in my arms about twenty minutes into the film, though I don't mind. Bree seems to enjoy herself, too, which is all I'm worried about.

A/N: Thoughts on Bree's story?

Review = Edward & Hazel outtake

Lyrics: Live Those Days Tonight by Friendly Fires