Okay, so here's the second chapter. Sorry it took awhile, I have finals to study for :( I forgot an author's note for the first chapter, so just to let you know this story was inspired by the song "What Sarah Said" by Death Cab for Cutie (link to music video on my profile page). Enjoy!

Carlisle's POV:

Yet another day at Forks hospital. Another day at saving people's lives when I'm really built for destroying them. Does that seem like an ironic profession for a vampire? Someone who survives on drinking blood, but instead finds a way to repair a foreign wound? I've grown too old to care anymore...

Today on the schedule was to help perform a wrist surgery. I've long outgrown the driving intensity to feast on human blood, since I'm around it every single day. It's not that I don't notice the smell once in awhile, it's kind of like being around forbidden desserts that you can't have. The difference compared with that metaphor is that even one taste would destroy my entire existence in Forks, forcing my family to move elsewhere. I'd have to find a new profession under a different name, and that would be too stressful. Besides, the wildlife here in Forks isn't hard to come by. And being a vegetarian, by vampire terms, my topaz eyes are not as startling as crimson ones.

Anyhow, I guess I was off to meet with Mr. Hayden Gerard Elliott. The name seemed slightly familiar, but all of them did nowadays. Rosalie was supposed to retrieve me from my office when he was ready.

Rosalie, my adopted daughter (technically not, but I don't have time to go into details), must work at the hospital as punishment for totaling her BMW M3 Convertible. For an 80,000 dollar sports car, she sure doesn't take care of it! Rosalie wouldn't tell me how it happend, but Edward said it had something to do with partying and trees. She already went through nursing school a few decades ago, so she can work here until she pays it off.

"But you're not even my real dad, why should I have to earn the money?!" she whined, a slight pink tinge arising in her pale face.

"As long as you live under my roof, you abide by my rules. I give you money to spend as long as you don't abuse that privilege," I stated calmly. We've been over this a thousand times... Why can't Esme deal with this?

Eventually she gave in, once she was persuaded by Emmett (only because he let her use his jeep for the time being). But believe me, having a family of 7 vampires is no easy task!

"Carlisle?" came a soft voice from the office door as it slowly creaked open.

"Is he ready?" I asked, standing from my chair.

"He's just waiting in room D17, the last bed on the right," Rosalie said.

I walked at human pace to room D17, there was no need to rush today. I don't have to sleep, so bringing extra paperwork home with me is no hassle.

A young teenager sat there, calmly. Something seemed familiar about his face and the happy-go-lucky air he brought with him. Beside him sat a girl, looking up at my paleness in wonder.

"Mr. Elliott, I presume," I said, extending a hand. "I'm Dr. Cullen, and I will be performing your surgery today. Do you have any questions about the procedure?"

"Not in particular. About how long will it take until I am completely healed?" he replied, as though we were discussing something as normal as Forks' dreary weather.

"It depends, anywhere from 4 to 7 weeks at the least," I informed, remembering the other thousands of surgeries I have performed in the past. Why did I enter this profession again?

The short conversation continued like that for another minute and four seconds, with that annoying girl staring at me the entire time. Once we were through the surgeon-meets-patient ordeal, I said my goodbyes and Rosalie came to deliver his gown. Just another day at the office...(or hospital, in this case).

Hayden's POV

Suddenly, the doctor's pager started beeping, making Ava jump about 3 feet in the air. I put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her, while Carlisle excused himself. He walked to the window and phoned the number on his cellphone, where we could still hear what was going on.

"Carlisle, we have a new arrival at emergency," stated the worried voice of a woman on the other line. "Looks very serious, we've never seen a case quite like it before..."

"I'm on my way," he said urgently. He turned to Ava and I, and mentioned something about being a little late. "The gurney will be here in awhile to pick you up," he said, his tall pale figure going rigid. "Rosalie, come with me."

They turned and ran off, in this case it was more like sprinted, leaving us there with a pile of blue-speckled hospital clothing. We could hear sirens in the distance.

Ava covered her ears at the loudness, snuggling into my shoulder. Sometimes I feel like a failure to her, why does she always think I can protect her when I can't even take care of myself? For someone who worries a lot, she picked an extremely accident prone loser for a boyfriend. I'm always worried that one day she'll wake up and realize I'm the wrong choice. You know, 'Hayden isn't safe enough and always gets into trouble. If this keeps up I'm going to have a stroke!' type-of-thing.

I got up and stretched my non-broken arm, careful to keep my distorted wrist out of the way. My band, the Volcanic Scandal, had been performing at a local bar when I had broken it. I was singing into the microphone and playing my guitar as usual, when some drunk guy threw a mug of beer at my hand. The neck of my Gibson guitar was snapped, and the utter force of the heavy glass pushed my left wrist back simultaneously! It hung there, limply, bloating hot pain rushed through my arm. People in the crowd booed and screamed, echoing in my head until my vision went red and finally black...

Walking over to the window, I wondered what this big never-before-seen emergency arrival was. It was probably some type of foreign flesh-eating disease or facial mutation.

I could see a cluster of people unloading the back of an ambulance by the emergency entrance. They pulled out a stretcher covered in blankets. I looked closer, seeing what appeared to be the face of an unconscious young man. He was deathly pale, his features half-mutated between both sharp cheekbones and a round chin.

Turning, I saw Ava standing beside me, a look of sheer horror crossing her delicate features. Waiting for my surgery may end up taking longer than I expected...