Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Updates for this story might come to a slight standstill, but hopefully it'll only be temporary.
I struggled along the uneven pavement with her arm around my neck and her whimpers in my ears. My mind didn't have any more space in it to even contemplate the fact I'd left Dylan, Phil, and Renée. I was just focussed on the task at hand. It had all started mere minutes ago when I materialised with a sigh into this new place and was met by the sound of a scream, a falling book, and then—closely following the book—a falling girl. She landed with a terrible thud and an even more horrifying crack. I barely had time to steady myself before I rushed to her side. She was about my age, sixteen with caramel hair pulled back in a platted twist. Her face was twisted up in pain and I knew it must have something to do with the sickening sound that was made when she landed.
"Where hurts?" I had asked, trying to see any surface injuries but failing due to the plume of royal blue material from her dress billowing around her.
"My leg. It's agony," she whimpered, and I looked around me frantically. We were in a park, or at least some quaint forest near civilisation. I could hear it, the buzz of the streets and the smell of modern life—or at least a modern as this time period could be. From her appearance I could only guess I was back to the fair days of the 1910's.
"Is there a hospital, or somewhere that can help nearby?" I had asked as together we raised her to stand on one leg and rest the remainder of her weight on me.
"Main Street." She gasped, and although I had no idea what was considered the main street I struggled onwards with the girl, and that was how we came to be here, walking on uneven slab stones heading towards the large brick building in front of us.
It was a busy morning at the hospital, patients were coming and going, but we were shown towards a bed fairly quickly after the girl's leg had been x-rayed.
The hospital was such a small place, really. There were lots of little rooms and warrens of corridors leading from one area to the next. I couldn't imagine that in just two years time, this place would be a holding ground for those suffering from the influenza. That is if I was correct in assuming the time period was early to mid 1910s. I could be wrong, but when you travel through the ages as much as me, you start to notice the small differences that indicate the era.
I glanced at the girl next to me, lying on the hospital bed and staring up at the ceiling.
"Does your leg still hurt?" I asked as a doctor went past us. It seemed a possible broken leg wasn't as important as the other patients. We had been sitting here for longer than I had hoped.
"Yes, but thank you for helping me to get here. It was silly of me to try and climb that tree so high." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, breathing through the pain before opening them and giving me a grateful smile. Even with tears on her eyes her face was very gentle and welcoming. She had the open features of one of those china dolls you could buy from the shops.
"I thought I might have scared you and perhaps caused you to fall." I admitted guiltily. I had, after all, just appeared from nowhere.
"Oh no. No it was nothing like that. I didn't even know you were there until you came to help. I was just climbing to find somewhere peaceful, to think and read. Unfortunately my foot slipped and well, here we are." She laughed softly but stopped when pain caused tears to spring up in her chocolate eyes again. They were wide, round eyes that seem so innocent. Almost doe-like. The way they were set in her face with her soft plump cheeks and lips, gave the appearance of a happy face. She was familiar somehow, the comfort and gentleness she projected, but I couldn't quite place my finger on who she reminded me of.
I heard someone approaching with relief, although it soon turned to shock when the curtain was pulled back to reveal Carlisle's compassionate face. My face split into a blinding smile and I battled with the urge to run to him and wrap my arms around him, to gain some comfort from his presence.
"Hello, my name is Dr Cullen. What seems to be the matter here, Miss...?"
Suddenly something sprung from my memory, a past conversation that chose this moment to reappear in my mind.
Carlisle's face formed a frown of confusion but it cleared too quickly to crease his handsome face.
"This is still quite unnerving, almost as much as the first time." It was my turn to frown this time.
"It's been six years since I first met you, Sarelle. I believe you were sixteen, nearly seventeen."
"But...I only turned sixteen a few weeks ago."
"Yes quite unnerving," Carlisle murmured as we waltzed through the room.
"Six years...so I met you for the first time...like this...in 1911?"
"Yes..."
His voice faded from my mind and I stood gaping at the man in front of me. Another piece of my puzzle had fallen into place. It was almost rewarding, like following the clues on a treasure map and discovering another little piece of the seemingly endless puzzle.
Only moments had passed and I saw the girl beside me break herself from the daze she seemed to be under.
"Platt. Miss Esme Platt," she replied with a shy smile which Carlisle returned with a fervour I would never have expected to see on a first meeting between two people. But of course these were no two strangers, or at least they wouldn't be for long.
Esme Platt. Esme, the woman who cared and loved me as if she were my true mother. It was odd seeing her as a girl my own age, to see her as human, but the moment I looked at her again it was as if I was seeing her through Carlisle's eyes. I could see exactly why he would love her when she was grown. She was so soft and almost Madonna-esque in her appearance. She had that look about her that showed she was meant to love, meant to care for those close to her. Her body was curved and made for comforting embraces. Her eyes, although wearing a mask of pain, had an innate glimmer that was meant to be bestowed upon those she was proud of. She was perfect for him, almost shockingly so.
I hadn't realised, as I'd been wading through my revelation that their conversation had progressed from introductions and initial queries and they were now both looking at me.
"Miss?" Carlisle asked as Esme smiled encouragingly at me.
"Yes?"
"He was enquiring as to the name of my saviour," Esme prompted as she touched my hand in gratitude.
"Miss Sarelle St Clair. Although I'm anything but a saviour. It was just a case of right place right time."
"Indeed. A pleasure to meet you, Miss St Clair." I nodded in agreement with Carlisle, trying to hide my amusement at being called Miss St Clair by him.
"Now, Miss Platt..."
"Please call me Esme." Esme interrupted warmly, if not with a hint of timidity.
"Esme." Carlisle smiled as his voice seemed to caress her name. "Unfortunately, according to your x-rays you have broken your Fibula. That's the outer bone on your shin. See." He ran his hand along the outer part of her lower leg, lightly indicating where the broken bone resided. "I will have to reset the bone. I will be quite painful but I will make it as swift as possible. I promise."
"If you must, Doctor." Esme replied with a wobbling voice, and I felt her grip my hand almost unconsciously. I squeezed back, clutching in both of mine to give her whatever comfort I could.
"On the count of three." Esme gritted her teeth and braced herself, although her scream still came when Carlisle forced the bone back into place. It was awful to see the flush of pain painting her cheeks and the sheen of cold sweat causing her brown to shine, but nonetheless she smiled slightly at Carlisle when the worst was over.
"I'm sorry, truly." Carlisle spoke in earnest.
"There's no need but thank you anyway." Esme said through involuntary tears. I leant over and dabbed them with one of the tissues placed on the side.
"You're very brave, Esme. I'm such a scaredy cat when it comes to hospitals." It was a half truth. I really did prefer to stay out of hospitals, but not because I feared pain or anything like that. It was more because hospitals housed doctors, and doctors asked questions, and questions lead to nothing good. It was the same with places where gossip was rife, or police stations where every word and event was filed. I always aimed to stay away from anywhere where my presence could be recorded or speculated upon without my knowledge.
"You are kind to do this, Sarelle. Lord knows how long I could have been lying there under that tree if you hadn't helped me."
"It was my honour. Plus I can consider this my good deed for the day. I've certainly clocked up a few IOUs over the years." Both Carlisle and Esme gave me a slightly puzzled smile but I just chuckled a little and turned away. Turning my back on the awkward moment when I had let myself get ahead of the times.
"Right, now that the bone is back in place I just have to put it in plaster. I can assure you, Esme, the worst part is already over." Carlisle touched her shoulder as he had with me several times over the years, and I saw it had the same reassuring effect on Esme as it always did with me. "Now I'll just go get the supplies. I'll be just a few moments; meanwhile a nurse is going to run a few tests just to make sure we haven't missed anything." Esme nodded and with that he left the room, his white coat disappearing from sight.
Esme sighed beside me before giggling softly.
"Esme?" I asked with a smile in my voice.
"Oh ignore me, I'm just being silly." She said as she giggled again.
"Oh come on, what's go you all giddy and giggly?"
"He's rather dreamy, isn't he?" She said with a convert smile.
"Dr Cullen?" she nodded.
"Can you believe he's a doctor? He seems so young," she pondered as a nurse walked in.
"I take it you're being treated by Dr Cullen," the nurse said with a smile, her greying strawberry blonde hair tucked neatly under her white hat.
Esme flushed and the nurse noticed. "He's a favourite around here. It's a lucky thing I'm happily married otherwise I could find myself quite smitten."
"How long has he worked here?" I asked as the nurse took Esme's temperature.
"Oh, ever since he moved from Columbus, Ohio, I think. So about six years. If I'm honest, I'm surprised he hasn't been married yet. There're plenty of the young nurses who would love to be called Mrs Cullen."
"How can a man like him not be married?" Esme asked in wonder as the nurse wrote down her blood pressure and temperature.
"Now that, my girl, is a question many a woman has asked." The nurse winked and left as the curtain opened and Carlisle returned.
"Now, Esme, let's get you patched up and well again so you may enjoy the rest of this beautiful day."
"Thank you, Doctor. Do you not wish you too could enjoy the sunshine, rather than working all day?" Esme asked as Carlisle turned to dip the plaster strip in warm water.
"Oh no. I enjoy my work far too much to regret missing a sunny day to do it." That and he would stand out rather a lot in the sunshine, I thought to myself. Although I knew he spoke the truth when he said he enjoyed his work. It was crystal clear and written on his face. Being a doctor wasn't just a career or job to Carlisle, it was part of who he was. His need and wish to help people is rooted down in his soul and had been even when he was human. I knew that from when he took me in when I was just nine years old. A nine year old girl, lost and homeless, and he hadn't seemed to bat an eyelash as to what he would do. There weren't many who would do such a thing.
I sat watching as Carlisle and Esme interacted. It was small talk really, just simple questions that to any outsider would seem like just a method to pass the time. But whenever my eyes glanced upon them, away from the mint green walls and chipped vanished floors, they were learning about each other in a very tentative way. Esme mentioned her love of peace, reading, and learning. While Carlisle enthused about how he also enjoyed reading and therefore asked her for her favourite titles. It was genial conversation but it showed snippets of the people I knew them to be in their future. The perfect match, just a few years ahead.
A flurry of movement snapped me out of my reverie as I saw Carlisle helping Esme onto her crutches, her newly plastered foot creating a large, cumbersome boot for her to manoeuvre.
"Try not to put too much weight on it. It's fairly secure but too much walking could displace it and cause it to heal incorrectly."
"Certainly, and thank you so much, Doctor." She said as he helped her steady herself on the crutches.
"It was my pleasure, Esme and please call me Carlisle," I watched with a smile as Esme flushed ad nodded, her loosened hair flopping slightly over her face.
"Perhaps, Miss St Clair could help you back to your home?" Carlisle asked me and I nodded vigorously. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of letting her walk home alone."
I followed Esme out towards the door but turned back to see Carlisle watching us leave, an almost regretful look on his face.
"I just want to have a quick word at the desk about something, Esme. Could you wait for me on the bench outside?" she nodded and made her way outside while I doubled back to Carlisle. He was already finishing his notes for Esme's file when I found him.
"Dr Cullen," He turned to me with a querying expression.
"Yes, Miss St Clair?" I grinned at the formality.
"I just wanted to thank you for your excellent help today."
"It's my pleasure, really."
"I know, but you really put her at ease."
"She's a lovely girl; it's easy to talk with someone such as her."
"She is, isn't she?" I felt myself stare at him, looking at the way he'd slicked his hair back and the way he had his stethoscope and pens arranged in his breast pocket.
"Was that all, Miss?"
"Look, Carlisle. Do you mind if I call you Carlisle, or would you prefer Dr Cullen?"
"You may call my Carlisle if you prefer," he replied with an intrigued expression. Had he actually told us his first name during Esme's examination? I couldn't remember although his expression hinted that he had not.
"Thank you. It doesn't really feel right calling you Dr Cullen, not after..." I cut myself off because I realised this was, for him, our first conversation, our first meeting. It was almost frustrating to talk to him but know that he had never spoken to me before, that he had no recollection of who I was. I couldn't just spill out everything here and now. I had Esme waiting and it was the middle of a busy hospital, I couldn't recount our every meeting.
I huffed and bit my lip as I looked up at him. He was confused that much was clear in his expression, but he was wary as well. That showed all too well in his golden eyes. "Not after, what, Miss?"
"Oh please. Don't call me Miss. I know it's fitting for the times but you and I have known and will know some many other eras that surely we can just talk to each other without all that formal nonsense. My name is Sarelle," I said with a smile and although Carlisle seemed to be questioning my words intensely he also seemed to realise that here was not the place for interrogations.
"Then I shall call you Sarelle."
"Thanks," I chirped as he led us to a more hidden side of the room, out the way of prying eyes.
"If you don't mind me asking, what are you?"
"That's a very loaded question, Carlisle," I said with a chuckle. "What am I? To be honest, I have no idea." I giggled before calming myself and speaking clearly. "I'm not a vampire, as you can tell. I would call myself human but a human with a little oddness thrown in. The easiest explanation is to say I'm a time traveller. But I have absolutely no idea how or why. I just am. You promise me you'll find a reason for it. Or at least the future you."
"My future self? So am I to assume you know me? You clearly...know what I am." He spoke in a low voice as he covertly scanned the passing faces.
"I do, I've known you for years, Carlisle. Years and years and I've cared for you as a friend for just as long. That's why I can tell you're lonely, Carlisle. You're not meant to be lonely, it doesn't suit you. Although you're looking well as usual," I said with another smile. They came so easily with Carlisle, even if he looked on at me with bemusement.
"Excuse me, Sarelle, but this is all so..."
"Strange?"
"Perplexing would be my choice of wording."
"I can't explain it now, Carlisle. But you'll get your answers soon, I promise. I just wanted to say one thing and that is that no one can last eternity alone. So when the time comes I want you to know that you did the right thing. Never doubt that."
"When the time comes? I'm afraid I don't comprehend your meaning, Sarelle."
"I know you don't now, and in a way I wish I could better explain it, but I can't. It would take too long and I've left Esme outside. All I can say is that you'll know the moment when it comes. She'll want it just as much as you and he'll come to be like a son to you."
"Who? How will I know? Can you not explain this to me properly, perhaps later today?" Carlisle touched my arm as his eyes urged me to look at him, to agree. I frowned because I couldn't do any of those things or answer any of those questions.
"I can't, unfortunately. Firstly I have a feeling I'll be gone by later today, and secondly I can't tell you too much, or at least I don't think I can." I bit my lip. This was all getting too confusing.
"It might change the future, unless this conversation is what formed the future and therefore by having it nothing actually changes but in fact happens as it already has happened in my past." I gushed as I tried to clear the mess in my mind.
"I'm sorry, Carlisle, but I have to go. Just remember what I said. I'll miss you, but I'll see you soon...about six years to be exact." I gave him a quick hug before I waved and left him staring after me. I hated leaving clues instead of answers, but it was the best I could do. I couldn't tell him directly that changing Edward was a good thing, or that changing Esme after her suicide would lead to his soul mate. I could only hint and hope he read the signs when they came.
"Did you get what you went for?" Esme asked when I met her outside.
"I think so. Now which is the quickest way to your home?"
"It's a moderate walk away from here, down Elm Street and off down the track." She pointed in a westerly direction, towards the small pockets of trees and fields.
"Near the farm land?"
"Yes, although not quite as far. My father's a blacksmith so he has to be near the horses." She winced a little as we worked to stand her up.
"I'll hail a cart; it'll be faster and better for your leg."
"Oh no, you don't have to do that. I can't walk, truly. It would be silly to spend the money."
"Nonsense. Carlisle said not to let you walk on it too much, so I'm going to do my best to follow his instruction."
"Carlisle? You mean Dr Cullen? I didn't realise you knew him." I realised I'd messed up.
"Oh I don't but I noticed it written on his coat. Perhaps you were too dazzled to notice." I teased and Esme giggled as I hailed a cart.
"When he came in, I have to admit I was speechless. None of the other men around here are half as handsome, and he was so gentle and kind. And his smile, it just seemed light up his face," she explained wistfully before seeming to become embarrassed. "Would you listening to me, gushing about some man I hardly know and who probably wouldn't look twice at a sixteen year old girl." She smiled weakly; laughing at what she thought was her own silliness.
"Why ever not?" I asked as the cart driver climbed back up onto his seat after helping us in.
"Well for one he's older than me, and for another it's a rare event for a doctor to marry a blacksmith's daughter."
"I've heard of stranger things," I replied as I looked back at the hospital.
Esme called our destination to the drive and the cart started to pull away. Our ride to her house didn't take long, fifteen minutes perhaps. When it stopped I saw an auburn woman peer out the window, and on seeing Esme, rushed out the little two storey cottage.
"Oh, Esme, darling what happened?" the woman gushed as her hands wiped on her dirtied apron.
"It's nothing to worry about, mother. I just fell out of a tree while reading. The fall caused me to break my leg but Miss St Clair, Sarelle, here helped me to the hospital." I heard Esme explain as I paid the driver.
"Esme, how many times have I told you? You're too old to be climbing trees." Her mother fussed and scolded but her large, round, eyes showed her concern.
"I know, mother." Esme sighed as the woman tutted and bustled around her like a mother hen.
"Well, Esme. It's been a pleasure meeting you, but I really must carry on. I was merely passing through today," I said as I rearranged my bag on my back. The tingle buzzed in my ears, alerting me to its presence, whispering the need for goodbyes.
"Oh, how rude of me, to not even introduce myself," Esme's mother exclaimed as she came towards me, her hands open before enclosing around one of mine. "I'm Amelia Platt, Esme's mother. I can't thank you enough for helping my darling Esme. Will you allow me to at least attempt to show my gratitude with a cup of tea, and perhaps a bowl of soup? It's homemade, just today." I glanced at Esme and saw the welcoming, albeit embarrassed, smile on her face.
"Mrs Platt, it's a very kind offer but..."
"I will not take no as an answer Miss St Clair."
"A bowl of soup would be lovely then, Mrs Platt, but I regret that I cannot stay for long."
The words, when I spoke them, had been true. I hadn't planned on staying anymore than an hour at most. However Mrs Platt was a very generous host and by the time I came to leave around early evening, my stomach was round and warm, filled with tea, cake, soup, and freshly baked bread rolls. It was a homely meal and a welcome one since I didn't know when I would next eat.
I had said my goodbyes and left the house, when I felt the urge to remember this day. It was with that urge that I turned around, retrieved my camera from my bag and took a photo of the quaint cottage, nestled amongst its herb garden and chicken pen. It wasn't until I looked at the picture after wards that I noticed I hadn't just captured the cottage, but I had also captured the image of a sixteen year old Esme sitting gazing out of the window, the sun lighting her face and revealing a tranquil—almost dreamy—expression on her face. If I was to place money on the reason for that expression, I would bet my life's possessions on a certain vampire doctor.
