Damn. I said that the only Twilight Fanfic I would ever write would be 'Through the Ages' (check it out), but inspiration just struck me. Note: This is an open-ended one-shot. So it's supposed to end with a cliffhanger. Also, you may make this into a full-blown fanfic (as in make this a prologue, or first chapter), just as long as you inform/credit me (even just a teeny-tiny part). Same goes for 'Through the Ages' .

I'm on FanFiction.

I M P R O B A B I L I T Y

"Impossible," she murmured.

She was sitting at her bed on a sunny Friday afternoon earlier this... day. Edward couldn't come over yet until nightfall, so all she could do was read her worn out book, Wuthering Heights.

Everything seemed normal then. Charlie, her dad, was out, and Jake was still attending school at La Push (they had longer hours). Alice, the sister of her 'boyfriend', together with Jasper (her boyfriend and... adopted brother) and Rosalie Hale (Jasper's 'twin') had went hiking. Or, in truth, hunting.

But theirnon-human status isn't of extreme importance at this moment. What was important was the fact that her relatively normal life (though how you could call a life full of mythological creatures normal is beyond me) to... to...

This.

To this impossibility.

Because while she was happily sitting down in her bed, a gust of wind blew surprisingly. Surprisingly being the key word. Why? The window was closed.

And the next thing she knew she was in a place that was definitely not her bedroom.

She was in a street.

With... old cars.

And people dressed like they attended a Halloween party. And the theme was the Great 1900s.

Dammit.

And that's why she found herself saying four syllables that perfectly described her situation.

Impossible.

Looking up from her position, which had her sprawled out in the side of the street, she saw a tall, black haired man getting out of a cab.

"I'm sorry ma'am," he said with a slight provincial accent, "Are you terribly hurt?"

Disoriented with the new surroundings, she said the first thing that came to her mind, "Where am I?"

The man looked at her in confusion, shook his head, and then said, "In 24th street. Near Blockley's grocery."

Blockley's grocery? 24th street? Where the hell is that?

"I'm sorry. Is that somewhere near Seattle? Near Washington?" she asked, taking the outstretched hand of the driver as she stood up.

The man, the cab driver, looked at her like she had grown a second head. "Washington? Ma'am, do I need to take you to the hospital?"

He looked at her curiously, and then said, "We're in Chicago."

"Chicago?!?" she exclaimed with a wild look on her face.

"That's it, Ma'am. I'm taking you to the hospital," he added in a low voice, "I should 'ave done that the moment I almost hit you."

He led her into the car right after introducing himself.

"Andrew, Andrew Johnson."

She was rattled, and scared... and not to mention confused. But she managed to stutter out a reply.

"Be-Bella. Isabella Swan."

Isabella found herself stepping out of the car, very disoriented at the turn of events.

During the ride, where, thankfully, the kind middle-age man had not asked many questions, she mulled over the things in her head. What did she know for sure?

1. She was in Chicago. That or this man was joking.

2. Either there's this elaborate joke, or the people here are like those people she watched at that one movie... where they were cut of from time. Or something. Damn. This isn't solid.

3. Fate was playing a very, very cruel trick on her.

Oh, and she was wearing a damn purple Silhouette dress.

She was dragged out of her thoughts by Andrew's voice.

"We're here."

She went out of the odd contraption that resembled a car (though it moved about 45 kmph at its fastest, perhaps), and followed Andrew toward a small building that oddly resembled Forks High School.

Forks. Would I ever be able to get back home, back to Charlie?

Back to Edward?

She woke up, lying down in white sheets. She saw three other beds in the room, one empty, while the other two were enclosed by curtains.

I really don't need this treatment.

Andrew had left her, after talking to one of the helpers. A part of her was chagrined because Andrew was kind enough to pay for the expenses, and even more embarrassed because she interrupted his day of taking fare.

"Don't worry about it, Ma'am, it was my fault I almost 'it you. I wasn't looking at the road."

He left with a smile and an apology for not staying, leaving a still confused Bella behind.

Where the hell am I? Who would go to such great lengths to... play a prank on me? Alice? Maybe... but how did she do the whole changing the time thing? She was sitting down in her bed at high noon, and found herself in 'Chicago' nearing nightfall.

Maybe they drugged me?

But they wouldn't be that cruel, would they? Edward wouldn't...

Edward.

Edward.

Just then, someone entered the room quietly, though not visible to Bella's eyes because of the curtains surrounding her bedpost.

When the man finally came over, however, her breath hitched.

Standing before her, with pale skin, golden hair and golden eyes, wearing a kind smile, was Carlisle Cullen.

Carlisle Cullen. Now she's in deep shit.

She smiled nervously, and said, "Ah... hi."

Idiot.

The doctor's smile grew wider, then said, "Miss... Swan, the fall you had had given you nothing but a bump. Though I do advise you to be more careful of where you are going."

A million thoughts were racing in her head. This... this was Carlisle Cullen. And Carlisle... Carlisle wouldn't have agreed to this -if this was one elaborate joke, right?

So... that means...

The old-fashioned cars...

The outdated attire...

The hospital that looked so...

Chicago...

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Panic crossed her nerves, and in the back of her mind she saw Carlisle coming closer in worry.

Oh my effin' god. There were only three things that could explain this situation.

First, she could have become crazy the moment she stepped into Forks all those months ago.

Second, she became crazy because of the sun blaring in Forks. Or because Edward wasn't there.

Or third, she traveled back in time.

Though the first seemed highly likely, she needed to trust in the third option. She needed her sanity.

And Carlisle asking if she was alright was not helping.

Smiling shakily, she said, "No. I -I mean yes. Yes. Yes. I'm... alright."

She even sounded hysterical in her ears. God. First vampires, then werewolves. Now I have to deal with Father Time?

In the back of her mind, she wondered where to stay after this, but she pushed the thought away. There were more pressing matters at hand.

She needed Carlisle (or dream Carlisle) to understand. She needed someone to be there. To make her relatively sane again.

Dr. Cullen's face became increasingly haggard as emotions flickered through the brunette's face. He came even closer to touch her forehead, but his cold hand was swatted away by her warmer ones.

She smiled shakily, trying to come up with away to tell Carlisle that she knew his nature, that she just... knew.

"Do you believe in myths, Doctor Cullen?"

The man addressed wiped non-existent sweat from his brow and smiled. His eyes, however, became confused and slightly apprehensive. It was not everyday that a medical doctor was asked a question such as that.

"Myths? No, I can't say that I do," his statement seemed untrue, judging by the slight downturn of his lips. He chuckled lowly, trying to see the point his patient was trying to get across. "but how is that of importance, Isabella?"

She grimaced at the name, and she said, "Bella, please, doctor. Isabella is too long. Importance? None. Maybe...."

She looked away, trying to come up with something better to say.

God, please, if you can hear me now... just. Just... help me.

The golden-haired man, Carlisle Cullen, laughed shakily, his melodic voice ringing through the air. "It might be the fall affecting your mind, Bella. I guess you need sleep, the fall must have affected you more than I thought."

He stepped away slowly, as if scared that the woman might burst into hysterics, before turning away towards the wooden doors.

Before he could leave, however, he turned around and looked at her curiously.

"I haven't seen any record of your name anywhere, Bella. Have you any relatives here? Mr. Johnson paid and left after telling the nurses to get you back to your home."

Bella immediately stiffened, and panic as making its way to her eyes.

Shut it. What am I suppose to say...?

Faking a yawn, she feigned exhaustion (though Edward... Edward always said she was a horrid liar) then said, "Maybe tomorrow, doctor?"

He nodded, and then left through the doors.

She woke up, and, still with her eyes closed, searched for the cold marble that was Edward. He wasn't there.

Opening her eyes, she saw that she was in a bed not her own.

Everything came flashing back to her. The fall, the trip... the conversation.

Letting out a shaky breath, she noticed the changes in the ward. All three other beds were now empty, and the sheets were pristine, the curtains drawn back.

Sitting up, she waited for Carlisle.

He's like Albus Dumbledore. He's the omniscient one.

Actually, no. She was the one who knew everything.

Except the damn freaking date.

Footsteps echoed once more, and this time she was more prepared, more relaxed.

She grinned wildly as the blonde vampire crossed the room slowly.

Before he could get a word out, she said, "I'm terribly sorry about last night. Though this may seem very odd, could I repeat my question? Do you believe in myths, doctor?"

She was confident that this was her Carlisle. The golden eyes, that were now a shade darker, the smile and the hair -this was the Carlisle that fathered Edward, Alice, Rosalie...

He looked up from the folder he was holding startled. Pausing slightly in his step, he continued walking, while saying, "My answer is the same Bella." He smiled, but he looked apprehensive and worried.

"Really?" she raised her eyebrows. She needed this. Bella continued, saying insistently, "Not even vampires and werewolves? Things that lurk in the dark?" She smiled cheekily, almost looking deranged.

Dr. Cullen tensed, and then shifted from one foot to another. His discomfort was apparent when he tried to change the subject. "Does your head still hurt, Bella?"

The woman in question sat up, her thin hospital gown becoming visible. She replied, "No, Dr. Cullen. I was just trying to tell you an observation."

He sat down at the bed beside her, curious at his patient that seemed so... unstable.

"You see, doctor, I have met people strikingly similar to yourself..."

You and your family.

"Cold skin, inhumanly beautiful... with grace and strength.... with speed and agility..."

He, if it was even possible, tensed up even further.

"The curious thing is, doctor...," she looked at him, planning to simply say that she knew what he was... that she knew he was a vampire.

"...they had red eyes."

The blonde man had stood up already, shifting his eyes as if trying to find an escape.

"Dr. Cullen, it's odd, but I've always connected the color of gold in eyes to... vegetarians. Odd, isn't it?"

He stared directly at her, his golden eyes darkening to a near black as he surveyed the situation.

"I ask you not to play games with me, Miss Swan. If you know what I am, then you should know what I am capable of."

She laughed humourlessly, and then said, "I have seen and experienced a lot, doctor. And I don't believe that you'll hurt me."

His eyes flashed, and he straightened up. "Are you some sort of spy for the Volturi?," his eyes suddenly softened, "Are they pressuring you into this? Forcing you by ransom?"

Bella shook her head, and then said quietly, "Never, Carlisle. Never."

He was startled by her use of his first name, but urged her to continue.

She looked at him dead on the eyes, gold meeting brown, and then said, "I know you, Carlisle. And you know me."

For a moment, his eyes flashed in wonder, but then turned into curiosity and confusion at her next words.

"Or rather, you would know me."

"Impossible."

His perfectly symmetrical eyes grew round as he listened to Isabella's tale.

Upon hearing that she had no place to go, he offered his place. Not a good choice, but who else would take a woman who asks eerily of vampires and monsters?

Who asks about him?

In the humble parlour, watched by an old, Spanish cross hanging from the ceiling, she recalled everything that has happened to her since yesterday.

The word he said perfectly fit.

Impossible.

Highly Impossible.

Yet it happened, didn't it?

"Bella," he hesitated, "I... I cannot help but believe what you're saying. I mean... you told me about my past. My past! My three-century past!... Now what? What brought you here?" His look of astonishment and awe was replaced by determination.

Why was she here? What is her purpose?

"I doubt that you came here for nothing, Bella. Why? What do you think brought you here?"

A sudden thought came to her mind. What date is it?

"Uh, Carlisle, what year... date is it?"

He was brought out of his musings, then he visibly collected himself. Casually gripping the armrests of his chair, he said, "January. January 16 of 1918."

The doctor looked in worry as she grew pale.

1918.

1918.

1918.

Edward Anthony Masen was here. As human.

Oh god.

"E-ed..." she stammered out, disbelief colouring her voice.

He leaned forward in anticipation, and urged her on with his eyes.

"Edward... Edward Ma-Ma-Masen."

He looked confused for a moment, before saying, "Edward Masen? The son of the laywer down the block? Who... How do you know him?"

She managed to choke out a few words.

Edward.

Future.

Fiancé.

He looked shock still, then he said, "How? He's... here. He didn't... become... a..."

She nodded, tears flowing freely down her face as she thought of her predicament.

Edward was here. As a human.

Her love was here. She could be safe. She will be safe.

But what was she supposed to do?

"Yes." She whispered it so softly that he wouldn't have head of it were he not a vampire. "He's one of your kind... in my future. But not yet."

"Why...? Who changed him? Why?!"

She looked at him in the eye, then said, "You did."

She rushed through the throng of people in her white coat while looking time to time at the clipboard she was holding.

It had taken long for Carlisle to process the information she freely gave. She told him partially of her knowledge of the future, of his past, and of Edward's.

Now all they had to do was wait and see how things would turn out. They had battled until early in the night about what to do. Should they wait for a miracle? Wait for Edward to be changed? Or maybe... hit her with a cab again? Or leave her in a room with Wuthering Heights?

But before they could do anything about her being... in this time, they had to find a plausible excuse for her presence in his house. In the end, they decided to have her as his cousin from his mother's side, and have her working as an intern in the hospital.

So that was how she ended up doing errands at the local hospital.

"Isabella," she cringed at the name addressed to her, "Dr. Philipps is going to administer injection at Room 078. He said he needed help."

She halted in her steps, looking at the nurse. "Am I allowed to do that? Shouldn't it be a nurse or something?"

The nurse shook his head before saying, "No, actually, you're. But you've been here for over a week. You're only going to assist anyway."

She nodded, said a quick 'excuse me' then left for the room.

Entering through the slightly worn out wooden door, she looked at the almost bare room.

Standing around the lone bed, the short, gray-haired doctor nodded in acknowledgement at her entrance, before looking back at the patient.

Walking closer, she began to go around the bed to see the patient.

Her breath hitched.

Bronze-hair was peeking out of the covers that were visible to her. Approaching cautiously, her heart beating furiously, she stepped closer and closer.

Oh.

A sense of both disappointment and relief filled her. It wasn't her Edward.

It was, unmistakeably, his mother.

Taking a deep, solidifying breath, she smiled shakily.

"Good morning."

"Isabella," Dr. Philipps began, "this is Elizabeth Masen."

The patient, Elizabeth, held out her hand politely, which Bella shook automatically.

"She was brought here for vaccination."

Whatever he had to say was halted as Elizabeth explained for herself. "My husband," she began both proudly and sadly, "has caught the flu. My son..."

Her breath hitched as she referred to Edward. He... he was here yesterday! And she didn't even see him.

"...so now it's my turn for vaccination."

Bella could only smile in response. How small, or big, could Chicago be?

Done. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review. The "Do you believe in myths" scene reminds me of another story... I just can't remember the name. If you do know it, please tell me. Even though I was only inspired by it, I still feel like I plaigarised it.

Thanks again.