"Get out of the way! Move!" Carlisle Cullen heard the paramedic shout while he was making his way to the entrance of the ER. He reacted immediately, pulled on his operation gear and gloves that were giving to him by his assistant-nurse who also gave him –while running- information about the victim. "Female, age 23, head- and stomach injuries; car crash on the freeway".

Carlisle nodded, understanding, and took the stretcher over from the paramedics. One of them gave Carlisle more urgent information about the patient : "BP is 140 over 120, one bag O negative added but patient keeps loosing blood, weighs about 75 kilograms and her name is Eline".
Carlisle rolled her in to an examination room so he could examine her closely himself, in private. Her blood didn't bother him due to his experience over the years; He was almost immune to it.

"Get X-ray's of her stomach and head as well to check for any serious brain damages. Oh, and also get her ten milligrams of morphine. And Serge, make sure you get two extra bags of O negative over here." As soon as he was busy with a patient he would turn in to a good oiled machine, trying everything –well almost everything- in his powers to safe his patient.
While working he kept on giving the nurses orders; telling them to do this and do that. Anything to keep her alive. The woman was in a very bad condition; Too bad to be honest, and he was praying for her to stay alive.

Suddenly Carlisle noticed that the woman's way of breathing became irregular. She was noticeable having trouble. "Tube ten!" he called out to the nurse on his side while he took the oxygen mask off the patient's face. The nurse handed him the tube and some lubricant, for making the intubation as easy as possible. And then, like the expert he was, he got the tube where he wanted it in easy and with out any problems. As soon as the tube was in its place one of the assistants got the balloon and gently started to squeeze it.

At the time the X-ray results came back Carlisle saw something truly disturbing; She had a massive crack in her skull. The chance that she had serious brain damage was extremely high, raising by the minute. Carlisle was bummed by the diagnoses.

While he was doing some further research the heart monitor started to go nuts; her heart was failing. It was fighting to keep its owner alive, but it was to hard. Of course Carlisle could hear her heart beatings very good, without the use of his stethoscope. And he knew the fight that was going on in this body, was a lost cause. He was touched by it and looked around the room; there was no time for emotions.

As the machine turned on, alarming everyone near, all available nurses came running in. One of Carlisle's colleagues started CPR while another one went to get the crash cart. Carlisle took the, with gel covered, peddles and collided them together.
"Free!". He placed the peddles on the chest of his patient and electrocuted her body. Her heart started beating again but after three short beats she went into cardiac arrest, again.
Carlisle was very persistent and tried five more times to get her heart beating again. But already after the third time the monitor hadn't registered any activity of the heart.
"Time of death ; 05.40 am." He tolled the nurse who was registered his announcement on a formal piece of paper. He threw away his gloves and operation clothes and left the room with a dramatic sigh.

The last remaining two hours of his shift went by quiet, without anything special. Just a broken arm and leg to cast; a cut that had to be sewed but other then that, nothing special happened. At the time he was allowed to end his shift he hung his doctor coat in his locker and closed his office. On a slow, human, pace he walked across the lot to his car.

When he finally got home, no one was in, except for Esme. He walked up to her study room and greeted her with a kiss and a sad smile. Esme was busy looking at some blue prints for future renovation projects. Renovating was one of her biggest hobby's. She gave Carlisle a loving, tender smile which, after a hard day of work like this, made him bright him up again.
Her presence was his medicine, his painkiller and sometimes, in the worst case scenario, his anti depression. He placed his face right in front of hers and whispered: "You're like a drug to me." She grinned his favourite smile and threw her hands around her own personal doctor. "Funny you," she said while kissing him on the forehead before looking deep in to his eyes. "And you keep accusing me of being the most hopeless romantic of two of us?!".