Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I own naught but my ideas and dreams, in which I'm having Carlisle's babies. Not really, but you get my point.

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Paper sheets had to be the most uncomfortable thing ever. Even if I merely shifted my leg a fraction of an inch, they crinkled, that horrid noise echoing in the empty hospital room, as did the ticking of my watch. I glanced at it for what had to be the one-hundredth time in the past five minutes, calculating the amount of time I had been here altogether. It had been three hours and twenty-three minutes since I had arrived at the hospital, and a good two and a half of those hours had been simply waiting. Just one of the many reasons I hated hospitals. Cracking my gum impatiently, I kicked my legs back and forth like a child. If only I had brought a magazine or something....

A soft knock on the door pulled me to rapt attention, and I crossed my ankles, folded my hands in my lap, and sat up straight. I could feel my chest tighten with anxiety. The moment of truth was about to dawn upon me. Would it be benign or malignant? Not that it really mattered... My ovary was going to have to come out anyway. I watched the door with worry, my brows furrowed together. Yet as soon as whom I presumed to be a doctor walk through the door, my eyebrows flew skyward. It was most definitely not Doctor Marston. No, for Doctor Marston was relatively short, in his late forties, and had a bit of a pot-belly; someone that I didn't really mind being my OB/GYN. This man (or should I say god?) was tall, lean, and looked more like he belonged on a runway. I blushed furiously when I thought of him being anywhere near me like that. I averted my eyes to my folded hands, my palms sweating like mad. Clearing my throat, I questioned, "Where's Doctor Marston?", whilst peeking up shyly from beneath my lashes, reminding myself why I was acting like a hopeless teenager instead of a responsible twenty-five year old.

His ethereal features broke out into what was I supposed was supposed to be a comforting smile, though it only left me enraptured. "Doctor Marston had a problem at home he had to take care of. That's why it took so long. They had to find a replacement, and as it seems that I'm a Jack-of-all-trades, they called me in. I'm Doctor Cullen, by the way. But please, call me Carlisle." He smiled once again, and I could only nod. "So, would you like to make a bit of small talk, or get straight to it?" I bit my lip, unsure. It wasn't as if beating about the bush would make the tumor magically go away. Might as well get straight to it. I nodded once again, clearing my throat. I really hoped that I wouldn't start crying.

"I suppose we should 'get straight to it'. Is the tumor malignant or benign?" I could feel my heart fall with his smile. His eyes seemed to lose their sparkle momentarily, and he looked down to his folder, a deep frown etched across his features. It didn't seem right. Something this angelic should not be sad. I desperately wished to hug him, tell him everything would be okay, my thoughts lost in wanting nothing more than to comfort him. He cleared his throat, a sound that was strangely beautiful, and broke me out of my odd emotions as he looked up again.

"I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, Miss Aldrick, but the tumor is cancerous."

My throat went dry and I felt lightheaded. I had been expecting as much, but it still felt like a dream, or rather, a nightmare. The only thing I could was to nod once again, hoping that my throat would be quenched soon so I could ask if I would be able to do surgery. However, Doctor Cullen spoke before I could even lick my lips.

"It has spread to the other ovary, I'm afraid. It somehow bypassed your uterus, so if you'd ever like to get pregnant, you can do in vitro fertilization, but we'll have to remove both ovaries surgically. We've already scheduled the surgery in two weeks time from now, so you don't have to worry about that. Your stay afterwards should only be about a week to make sure you recover properly and all the cancerous cells are removed. Do you have any questions?" I shook my head, words still unable to form themselves. The scars from the minor surgery that was performed to detect the cancer earlier on this month felt white-hot, and I ran my index finger along the one on the right side of my body.

The blank shock that I had felt only minutes ago was now fading, leaving hundreds of questions in it's place, the one that seemed to stand out most being a question of me ever being able to find love. I knew that there were men out there who didn't exactly want children, but it seemed that all the males I've ever come into contact with dreamed of having a family someday. And it wasn't as if I was on the dating scene anyway. How pathetic. A twenty-five year old without a boyfriend and no hopes of ever having a husband. My throat and nose burned with on-coming tears and I looked up towards the ceiling. I would not cry over this, I would not cry...

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath I looked back to Doctor Cullen. It struck me how sad he seemed. Why would he need to be sad? Biting my lip, I pulled on my jacket. Clearing my throat, I asked, "Is that all? Is there any medicine I'll need?"

He shook his head. "Nothing aside from the pain medication prescribed after your last surgery." He paused and frowned, looking rather unsure about something. "I'm very sorry about this, Miss Aldrick. My... late wife was also unable to have children, so we adopted. My children are a blessing, even if they aren't originally my own."

"Of course, Doc- err, Carlisle." The edges of his lips seemed to twitch upwards in a small smile. "I understand that I can adopt, along with IVF, but it seems that the chances of finding someone to share my life with just lowered dramatically. But those are my problems, and I'm sorry if I've troubled you with them." I gathered the rest of my things and stood, wincing slightly at the loud noises of the paper sheet.

"Not at all, Miss Aldrick. I'm here if you need someone to talk to. Trust me, I'm sure you'll find someone. There are over six billion people on this planet. Even if you have to use one of those online dating services, it's nearly impossible that you won't find love." He tried to give an encouraging smile though his eyes still contained that unfathomable sadness that made me want to comfort this nearly complete stranger in a way that was foreign to me. I couldn't recall a time I had felt this strongly about wanting to hug someone. Suppressing it, I tore my eyes from his gaze, feeling like it was only a second and yet forever that had passed. How could someone be that deep? Biting my lip, I thanked him, fighting back that urge as I walked past him and out the heavy door, noting that he smelled surprisingly good. My thoughts hazed over for a moment, and I wondered what I was doing in the middle of a hospital hall. Shaking my head, I breathed the antiseptic in deeply, for once grateful for the smell.

I gathered myself to the best of my abilities and made a sharp right, stopping by the gift shop on my way out. If I had ever needed white chocolate covered pretzels, it was now. I munched on them gratefully as I walked through the automatic doors, not even bothering to pull my hood up in defense against the light drizzle and slight breeze. I knew I should protect myself against colds, but all I could think of how little it mattered to me now in the big perspective of things. I pushed back the immense feeling of sadness that threatened to drown me, welcoming a numb feeling, my actions becoming automatic as I pulled out of the parking lot and drove through the roads of Anchorage, Alaska.