Carlisle's POV
Hours upon hours I'd spend in this cramped office filling out piles of paperwork for what seemed an eternity. Despite the hefty and unnecessary pay rise, stepping up as head of the emergency department was certainly a decision I had regretted, not because of the extra responsibilities, but because of the contact time with patients that had been taken away from me. After all, the patients were the reason I became a doctor, not for the money. Having so much to juggle at one time meant that I was never able to devote enough time as I would have liked to my patients, and I constantly worried that my standards would slip and I'd miss a vital detail in a diagnosis. I am a self-confessed perfectionist in that respect, but as a doctor you can be nothing less than meticulous. I guess that is probably why I have always volunteered to be a mentor to the interns fresh out of med school, in hope that some of my extreme diligence will have rubbed off on them by the time they finish their residency.
I was interrupted from writing my patient report from a knock on the door, and I was thankful for the excuse to take a break from my work load. I could tell it was Josh before he had even entered - if it were any of the nurses, they would have simply barged in without knocking. Anyone who had worked with me more than a couple years knew I was far too much of a pushover to care.
The young man hovered for a while at the door, his eyes facing the floor as if trying to find the words to say. Josh was never one to admit he needed help unless he was quite desperate, always wanting to solve things on his own and accepting every case I gave him as a challenge. He had always reminded me of my young self in many respects; excessively hard working, ambitious but sensitive - and usually overly so. There was a fine line in medicine between caring, and perhaps caring too much. Josh certainly suffered from the latter.
"I need your help on this one, Carlisle." He outright admitted to me after a small pause, his eyes meeting mine. I was glad he had come to me for help, but at the same time slightly anxious as to why he seemed so on edge. I didn't want to make him talk, seeing the clear worry in his eyes, so I outreached my hand to take the patients file from him and quickly scanned through the notes he had taken.
"I'm trying to help her, but she's uncooperative. I've scared her half to death already." He began to explain as if defending himself, and I was quick to stand up to reassure him. "Hey, it's okay. I'll take over - why don't you take your break?" I suggested softly, but he was quick to object.
"No, I can't just give up on my patient." Josh explained, and I gave a sympathetic smile before giving the patient file another look over as we started to walk towards room three.
I gave a quick tap on the door before entering and I almost tiptoed in, careful not to scare the young patient who stared wide eyed at the door.
"Hello." I paused. "I'm Carlisle." I introduced in a whisper, whilst Josh pressed himself up against the wall keeping as far away from her as possible. "What is your name?" I asked, still in a whisper, but the girl remained mute. My eyes drifted to the oxygen mask she was clutching towards her chest, and she flinched when I looked back towards her.
"I-I-'m s-sorry." The little girl stammered, her eyes flicking towards Josh this time. I assumed she was referring to the mask Josh had given her which she must have quite quickly taken off when he had left.
"Hey, that's okay. Those things aren't very stylish or very comfortable are they. I don't blame you for taking it off." I replied with a reassuring smile, taking a few steps closer to her in an attempt to gradually earn her trust.
"You must be very cold. How about I get you a towel for that wet hair of yours, and we get you changed out of those clothes?" I suggested, well aware that it was a shot in the dark if she'd let me or not.
However, one thing I'd learnt from my experience in paediatrics was that a child's hierarchy of needs was much different to an adults. An adult's most basic needs were physiological - to essentially be able to breathe, sleep, eat, have sex and ultimately be healthy. However, safety needs usually came before these physiological needs in children. They wanted warmth, shelter and security. Children can surprisingly tolerate pain and sickness far more than adults, but crave comfort far more than anything.
After a long pause, to my surprise the girl looked up at me with an expression finally other than fear. "please," she muttered, barely loud enough for a human to hear. I gave a nod towards Josh hoping he'd take the hint and wander off to find her some clean clothes.
He was back within a couple minutes with a bundle of white towels, and he handed them over to me without making eye contact with the girl, perhaps trying his best not to scare her any more than he had already. The girl jumped back as soon as she heard his footsteps though, lifting her arms in front of her face as if to defend herself. No matter how hard Josh tried not to scare her, he was a tall man and she probably couldn't help but find him intimidating. I hoped Josh wouldn't take it personally.
"Thank you." I muttered to Josh, as he left once again to find some much needed clothes for her. I unfolded one of towels, holding it out in my hands and looking towards the little one for her approval. Her bright blue eyes widened a little at the sight of the towels but she made no objections, which I could only assume meant she didn't mind me approaching her with it. "Still warm. He must have got them straight out the tumble dryer," I commented, standing up and perching on the end of the table she was sat up on. "How about we get your hair dry first?" I suggested, and she paused for a moment before untucking her knees from her chest and twisting her body round so her back faced me without any protest. She groaned a little as she moved, her face all screwed up as her hands clutched at her chest. "Good girl. You're doing really well," I praised her with a sympathetic smile, knowing how much each and every movement must have hurt her. After softly pulling at the hair from its hair tie and letting it drape down her back, I gently began to wrap the towel round each section of hair and squeezed the water from it before proceeding to rub the towel against her scalp. I tried to prolong it for as long as possible as she seemed to enjoy it judging by the content sleepy look on her face, her eyelids drifting shut for a few seconds at a time before drifting back back open again. Once I had managed to get most of the moisture out of it, I combed my fingers through the long hair attempting to separate some of the many clumps of knots. The layers underneath were a matted mess which I didn't even try to fix, knowing Alice could do a much better job than me in much less time. Instead of spending hours attempting to brush it, I managed to separate it out into three strands and began to plait it in the same way Renesmee had always insisted I had styled hers on many school mornings - the only hair style I had ever managed to learn over the years. I secured the end of the plait with her hair tie and let it drape down her back where it was long enough to reach her tailbone.
"Thank you, mister," the little one whispered to me, slowly twisting her body back around with the same low pitched groaning as before. I placed a hand on her shoulder to support her as she moved and lifted the oxygen mask to her face hoping she would be sensible and take a few breaths from it. Once she settled in her original position, my attention turned to the window where I stared for a long while. She was shy and I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable by initiating a conversation whilst waiting for Josh to come back with the clothes.
"w-why-" the girl began to ask, but stopped mid-sentence and shook the question away .
"No no, go on," I quickly responded, leaning forward slightly in encouragement causing her to fidget in her seat and her wheezing to get a little louder. I automatically began to feel guilty for causing her to become all nervous, even if it was unintentional.
"w-why do you w-wear posh c-clothes?" the little girl stammered timidly, and I couldn't help but chuckle at her question. No child had ever picked up on my choice of clothing before.
"I... I mean, all the o-other doctors wear those p-pyjama outfits and white coats... But you're wearing all fancy s-stuff," she stammered in response to my laughter, probably a little worried she had offended me. The little one stared up at me biting down on her lip and I could tell this was a genuine question.
I leaned forward as if to tell her a secret.
"Well, one of the perks of being head of department here is that I get to decide my own dress code . I tell everyone I wear a suit to make myself look professional, but between you and me, it's actually because the colour of those scrubs really doesn't suit my skin tone," I explained in a whisper causing a giggle to escape from her lips.
I'd managed to calm her down a great deal - so much so that she didn't react at all as Josh came back in with her pile of clothes.
"Thanks...m-mister," she stammered in response. A look of utter shock spread across Josh's face, and I couldn't help but smile. She was learning to trust us much faster than I had expected. "You're most welcome, sweetheart." he replied after a long pause, probably working out whether her talking had actually been directed at him. He laid out the clothes on her bed - a set of navy blue scrubs along with a university sweatshirt which I easily recognised as his own.
"Should we leave you for a few minutes so you can get yourself changed or should we send in a nurse to help you?" Josh asked, but the girl was quick to object and frantically shook her head.
"No...stay, stay. Please. I want y-you to stay," she girl mumbled, staring directly at me and then back to Josh. I could only assume that she wanted both of us to stay with her, perhaps for protection more than anything else.
We both turned our backs to her to give her some privacy, but I heard no movement from behind me. "Mister? Can you h-help me...p-please?" She asked nervously, and I quickly turned my back to see she hadn't moved an inch or even attempted to get herself undressed. I supported her back as she twisted round so her legs dangled from the end of the bed. "Arms up," I whispered to her, not able to get the dress off of her without getting her arms out of it first. She quite reluctantly began to lift her arms up as far as she could, but it caused her eyes to fill with tears and a groan to escape her lips. I pulled the filthy wet dress over her head as fast as I could, seeing the blatant pain she was in.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw beneath her clothes. No fat – just skin and bones. A layer of purple skin was stretched over her ribcage with bones protruding from her chest. Her arms and belly had been lacerated, some wounds healing on their own whilst others still wept blood. The little one trembled in front of me, making no attempt to hide her body – but she faced the floor trying to avoid eye contact. One hand clutched at her left arm and I turned my attention to her elbow, which was quite clearly twisted out of place - it was no wonder she struggled to raise her arms, the poor thing.
I didn't speak, but instead began to dress her in the scrubs, being as careful as I could to avoid the worst of the bruising but she groaned quietly nevertheless. The clothes were absolutely huge on her and I had to spend a while rolling up the ends of the trousers which were at least a foot too long for her.
"Can I get a 3mg injection of morphine, please?" I whispered to Josh, subtly giving her body a quick scan over to judge her height and weight. It was impossible to tell so went for the lower end of the recommended morphine dosage, obviously wanting to take the edge off the pain for her, but I also didn't want to knock her out.
We stayed in silence after I dressed her. My job was to treat her and care for her, and I didn't necessarily need to know how she had acquired her injuries, nor did I need to know about her family situation. It wasn't my position to ask questions like that.
She lifted her head to look up to me, her eyes red and puffy and filled with tears. A look of hopelessness spread across her face which honestly just broke my heart.
"Please, mister… don't tell the police. Don't tell anyone…please," she pleaded, sniffling between her words.
I sighed heavily, not able to look her in the eye. I couldn't make that promise to her.
"Please," she begged again, tears beginning to roll down her pink cheeks.
"Okay… okay," I managed to finally whisper, taking her hands in mine and giving a reassuring squeeze. I felt awful for lying to her but I really needed her to not fear me.
Josh came back and subtly passed the filled syringe into my hand then went to sit across from her. I gently pulled away her sleeve from her shoulder, rubbing my cold hand over her arm in hope it would numb the area. "This is just a painkiller, it's going to make you feel a lot better very quickly. Just a little sharp scratch, okay?" I whispered to her, injecting her in the back of her upper arm. She whimpered a little but stayed perfectly still, staring wide eyed towards Josh and the sweatshirt on his lap whilst I continued to rub her arm until the stinging would subside.
"Do you want to wear that?" Josh laughed, whilst her eyes remained fixated on the hoodie. She nodded eagerly and I proceeded to lifting it over her head and gently positioning her arms into the holes. The hoodie hung down to her knees on her tiny frame, and the sleeves were easily double the length of her arms. She seemed to like it though and snuggled into it with a crease in her lips I was tempted to call a smile. It looked as though it was the first piece of warm clothing she'd ever owned.
I helped her twist back round so she lay back down on the table. Her groaning seemed quieter this time and I hoped that the morphine was getting to work already.
"If I slept here, would you stay with me?" she asked, her tiredness evident in her toneless voice. "Of course. I promise I will," I whispered, dragging my chair closer to the bed and clutching at her hand which weakly held onto my fingers.
"Whilst you're asleep, would you mind if Josh and I did some tests on you? I think you may have something called pneumonia, and I need to see which bugs are making you sick so we can help you. We won't hurt you at all – I promise," I asked her gently. I had a feeling the girl would be asleep for quite a while, and I couldn't wait that long to get a blood sample. She nodded back, her eyes barely able to focus on mine and I wasn't sure if she had entirely understood my question. She had no parent with her which meant I was entirely responsible for consenting for her treatment, but it still meant something to me that I had her permission. Patients deserved to know what we were doing to them, regardless of their age.
Before I could finally ask her of her name again, she was asleep. Josh was quick to lift an oxygen mask to her face before covering her in a fleecy blanket, trying to get her as comfortable as possible. I stayed seated there, her hand held tightly in mine. I had to at least keep this promise to stay with her.