Chapter 1: Autonomy I
BPOV
"Welcome back, Miss Swan." Gianna's voice was carried to me by the wave of warmth that met me at the doors. I felt the blush creeping up my cheeks as some of the other occupants of the room turned their heads to see what the fuss was about.
"Thanks for that," I muttered darkly as I made my way to the reception desk, cradling my throbbing left wrist.
Her eyes sparkled back at me in return, unrepentant, as she continued to pull up my (rather hefty) medical file on the screen in front of her. "I presume that this isn't just a social call?" She glanced down at my wrist, already red and swollen.
"Is it ever?" I retorted, trying to distract myself from the throbbing pain but finding myself more weary than I expected. A small part of me knew that trying to hurry my visit wouldn't save me from the event that I was dreading, but I still felt compelled to try. "I fell. Can we make this a quickie – I'm pretty sure it's not even broken."
"Unless you managed to complete a medical degree in the time since your last visit, we're going to have to let the doctor be the judge of that," Gianna smiled wryly up at me for a moment before taking pity. "Have a seat for just a moment and I'll see if I can't get someone to take you to your usual room."
I huffed for a moment before throwing myself down into the nearest chair, wincing as my probably-just-sprained wrist protested the rough treatment. If I had my way, I would just ice the damn joint with that pack of frozen peas in my apartment and avoid this whole mess. Unfortunately, my latest episode of terminal clumsiness had been witnessed by my best friend's boyfriend, who felt duty bound to shuffle me to the nearest emergency room. And thus, I was – once again – in the waiting room of Northwestern Memorial Hospital, glaring at the LCD blaring the news from the corner. I scowled at the reporter as she explained that the Windy City was in for some more icy rain over the next week and debated whether Jasper would know if I made a run for it before he could park the car.
"Isabella Swan?" It was less of a question and more of a barked reprimand.
I stifled a groan. Of course, my luck would have it that Rosalie would be on shift today. As if things could get worse. I stood up, composing my face into my best pity-me expression, knowing full well the futility of the endeavor. "Present." I joked weakly as her eyes flashed at me.
She pressed her lips tightly together and whirled about, stalking towards the treatment rooms without a glance backward. I knew better than to push my luck – escape was impossible now that I was in Rose's clutches – so I followed meekly to lucky Exam Room 4. I sat down in one of the two chairs along the side of the wall, purposefully ignoring the paper-draped patient bed in the center of the room. If I was going to suffer, then so was everyone else!
"What did you do this time?" Rose bit out as she reached out to take my vital signs. Although her demeanor was gruff, I noticed that she was very careful not to disturb my left arm.
"I fell." I sighed. "Nothing new."
"Were you drunk?" She spat at me, annoyed that I was dragging the triage process out.
"Yeah – on life." I snapped back. "I'll have you know that it's two in the afternoon, Rosalie Hale."
She glared.
"Alright, I slipped on a patch of black ice. I tried to catch myself, but ended up landing awkwardly on my left arm. Jasper saw me fall and dragged me here instead of just letting me ice it back at my own place."
"Jesus, Bella, you act like you don't have health insurance or something," Rosalie rolled her eyes at my petulance. Ever since my step-father signed onto play minor league baseball, he felt it was his duty to add me onto his insurance plan. Apparently, athletes (even minor league ones) have a very thorough coverage. I ended up spending so much time in the ER back at Forks that there was talk of naming it after me.
As if returning to the Bella Swan Ward of Forks Hospital would have made the experience any better.
"I'm done with you here, Bella. The doctor will be in shortly, so don't wander off." She looked me right in the eye and I pretended to have no idea what she was talking about. "I'll be done with my shift here around six tonight so I'll pick up some pizza on my way home."
"Deep Dish?" I perked up slightly at the thought of indulging in some cheese-filled therapy.
Rosalie eyed me for a moment before conceding, "Fine, but I'm ordering it with sausage."
"Yeah, not that it's the type of sausage you're hankering for…" I muttered, deciding not to push my luck. She shot me a piercing look which made me question if I had spoken softly enough, but before she could get any words out, there was a soft rap on the door.
Oh shit. I felt all the blood drain from my face for a moment before it returned with a vengeance, staining me red from forehead to neck. Maybe I would get off lucky and it wouldn't be who I thought it was?
The door opened noiselessly and the man who inhabited both my nightmares and fantasies walked in.
Frick on a stick.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Rosalie. I thought you were already finished." He paused in the doorway.
"Not at all, Dr. Cullen. I was just on my way out." Rose, the traitor that she was, shot me a little smile and waltzed out of the exam room. I bit back a groan. She was going to be unbearable tonight.
Sometimes, I ask myself why I subject myself to Rose as a roommate. I like to think that putting up with her bitchiness helps my karma. But then, days like today roll around and I wonder if karma isn't just having a big ol' laugh at my expense.
A click startled me out of my thoughts and I accidentally ended up looking into his bright green eyes and my breath hitched in my lungs. Dr. Edward Cullen is by far and away the most attractive man I have ever seen. And, incidentally, thanks to his career choice, he is also the man most privy to my most embarrassing episodes of Epic Fail. I'm not sure if I want to jump his bones or toss him into Lake Michigan with some cement shoes. Rosalie is convinced that it's the former, but I can make a pretty convincing argument that hatred is easily mistaken for lust.
"What seems to be the problem today, Miss Swan?" His voice was deep and smooth. It carried just the right amount of empathy and authority. I wonder if that's natural or something he just picked up in medical school.
"Uhm. My left wrist." I stumbled over my words, feeling like a gangly high schooler all over again. "I think it's sprained."
I trailed off lamely. Of course, his question is rhetorical. Rose has already gotten the relevant "history of presenting illness" – hah, I can totes speak medical jargon too – into the file that he's currently skimming.
"Okay. We'll see what we can do for that right away. Is there anything else bothering you today?" He looked up from the computer displaying my medical records.
"Nope," With his eyes fixed on me, I barely managed to squeak out the one syllable. Considering my reaction to him, I can understand how Rose assumes I'm lusting after the good doctor. But that's just because she only knows Dr. Jekyll whereas I have also met Mr. Hyde.
Edward Cullen and I have always had a rocky relationship – if relationship is really the term to use when all interactions between us have a big HIPAA stamp on them. The first time I met him, he was a resident at Harborview Medical Center, over on the UW campus in Seattle. He was originally from Forks – the sad, little prison of a town I went to high school in – and happened to be home on leave. I was halfway through college and was visiting Charlie for two weeks that December. Mike Newton – the idiot – had decided that it would be great fun to start a snowball fight in the middle of the grocery store parking lot. In my haste to avoid freezing, wet balls (high up on my list of "things Bella Swan does NOT like") I ended up wiping out and landing hard on the back of my head.
I admit to having been a little bit woozy by the time I was shuffled into the ambulance and taken to Forks Hospital but I maintain to this day that Edward Cullen hated me on sight. Maybe I really did stab him with a scalpel while sedated (Mike's theory, not mine) or perhaps I ran over his cat in a previous life, but there was no way I imagined the absolute loathing he had on his face that afternoon. The minute I was deemed stable, he darted out of that room at an inhuman speed. For the rest of my stay, Dr. Carlisle Cullen was the only one entering my room. The jerk had obviously pawned me off onto his doctor dad.
Yet, the second time I ran into him – quite literally, as I was attempting to hobble my way out of the outpatient clinic in Seattle – he seemed to be the very soul of kindness. Perhaps he forgot who I was, because he even introduced himself to me again as he helped me back to the clinic to assess the damages of my spill.
The man changed moods so often that I'm surprised I don't have whiplash. I wonder if any decent attorney would let me sue him for emotional damages wrought. Probably not.
Luckily, today appeared to be a Dr. Jekyll day as Dr. Cullen washed his hands carefully before starting his physical exam. I braced myself for his touch, since his cold hands always made my stomach do a little bit of a somersault.
"Ow!" The bastard just shocked me, causing me to jump and jar my wrist.
"Oh – I'm sorry," his velvety tone was unruffled and I saw small wrinkles beginning to form between his furrowed eyebrows. "I guess there's a lot of static in the air." His mouth curled up in a lopsided but apologetic smile even as his eyes darkened.
Uh oh. I knew that look. I let my dark hair swing forward as he continued to examine my left arm, trying to block his eyes from view. Without seeing his fingers, I could barely tell where his fingers were touching me. They ghosted over my wrist, probing gently enough that I didn't hiss in pain. And then, abruptly, he was across the room.
"I'm going to order an X-ray of the wrist, just in case you did manage to fracture it. Once I take a look at the result, we can decide if you need to have a cast placed, or if a brace will be sufficient. Please wait just a moment while I see what the schedule down in radiology is like." His voice was unchanged, but I could tell that something was bothering him by the too-still way that he held himself.
And then, before I could protest, he had slipped out of the room and I was alone. "What happened to the patient being part of the treatment process?" I grumbled to myself, disliking my lost autonomy.
"Bella!" A voice boomed into the room as my door swung open again and I couldn't help but smile.
Emmett Cullen was the exact opposite of his younger brother. Well, ok, not exact opposite. Both of them were doctors, just like Daddy Cullen himself. But that's where the similarity ended. Emmett was big and brawny where Edward was slender and toned. He had a mop of cropped brown curls atop his head, whereas Edward's reddish brown hair was constantly in artful disarray. And best of all, he was genuinely happy to see me, whereas Edward appeared to have just swallowed a lemon taped to a brick almost every time he saw me.
"Emmett! What brings you down to my personal exam room?" I smiled back warmly at him, only half joking about it being my personal room. I hated the number four. It was always the number I ended up wearing in gym class in high school. Gym was my own personal form of hell, so anything that reminded me of it was automatically bad. Yet, somehow, I always ended up in exam room number four. Karma, you bitch.
"I'm here to take you down to the dungeon, of course." I guessed that he was referring to radiology, which was located in the basement.
"What? Why?" I frowned.
"Because your wrist might be broken," he replied, matter of fact.
"Well, yes, I understand that part." My frown turned into a scowl. "But since when did they start using the neurosurgery residents as escorts for the not-quite-invalid?"
It was Emmett's turn to look sheepish and my suspicions went up a notch when he failed to reply beyond a shrug.
"I don't suppose it has anything to do with a certain blonde bombshell of a nurse, does it?" I asked, enjoying watching him squirm. I swear, Emmett has had a crush on Rose from the moment he laid eyes on her. Why they insisted on playing this ridiculous game of pretending neither of them knew of the existence of the other is beyond me. Although Emmett looked like the offensive lineman for the Chicago Bears, he was actually quite intelligent and caring. He ended up matching into pediatric neurosurgery and was always a big hit with the kids. As much as Rose pretends to have her head in the clouds, I know that none of these facts have escaped her notice.
I hopped up to my feet, wincing slightly at the motion. There's a better chance of "accidentally" running into Rose outside of my little exam room, so I let him lead me into the corridor. Sure enough, Rose turns her head in our direction within seconds. Emmett smiles at her hesitantly, and Rose whips her head back down to whatever paperwork she has lying on the nursing desk. Somehow, this bizarre interaction seems to be enough for Emmett, whose smile widens into a grin as he leads me down to the dungeon.
Even more bizarrely, I seemed to have been fast-tracked through the X-ray process. I'm fairly certain this has a very lot to do with the fact that my other roommate is Alice Cullen, sister to two Cullen doctors and daughter to the third.
"I seem to finally be getting the VIP treatment I deserve, eh, Em?" I joked, noticing how quickly the technician finished up with me. "Maybe there are some perks to being a frequent flyer after all?"
Maybe it's just me, but it seems like he squirms a little bit more even as he lets out another boom of a laugh. "I don't think they give out a bulk discount on health care, Bella."
"I'll take your word on it. What have you been up to lately? You haven't visited Alice in a while." I was not above trying to nudge my two friends together.
"Yeah, well, neurosurgery residency takes up quite a bit of my time." He smiled wryly, "Who woulda thunk it, right?"
"Well, if you're free, I know Rose is picking up some deep dish tonight to mark the fact that I almost went a whole two weeks before ending up in the ER, so if you've got some time free…" I waggled my eyebrows at him suggestively at him, and was rewarded with another laugh and a noncommittal response before I was deposited back in my exam room.
Emmett scanned the nursing station one last time, but Rosalie was nowhere to be found. Nor was my erstwhile doctor. I wondered fleetingly what had happened to him before Emmett's pager went off.
Trying to smother my laughter as the melody of 'twinkle twinkle little star' cut off, I was surprised when Emmett plopped himself down in front of the computer. I had assumed that the page meant that somewhere, a brain was awaiting his slicing skills, but he seemed very nonchalant about the matter. I am so glad I never wanted to be a doctor. Never mind the fact that I faint at the smell of blood.
"Well, lil sis, it seems like you've got nothing but a sprain here. Doc's notes say that you should ice it twice a day and wear a brace for the next week, just in case." He slipped into his old nickname for me as he read off the screen. He paused to look over at the examination bed in the middle of the room, where a black wrist brace was patiently sitting in its wrapping before looking up at me, slightly sheepish once more.
I was confused at Emmett's sudden decision to play at being an ER doc before the facts all snapped into place.
The rat bastard had just pawned me off onto his brother.