AUTHORS NOTE
Hello and welcome! This fan fiction is a little quirky, so I apologize in advance to hardcore fans. But give it a shot, you might like it if you start reading it with an open mind… I'm open to suggestions, flames, compliments, etc. It might have a bit of a slow start, the first few chapters are mostly filler to give you an idea of what is going on with the main character, Harper. And yes, it is a Carlisle/OC story. It's a bit of a downer fiction. And it will be for at least 10 chapters…? Love, ScribblerInNotes
…..
"I'm slowly wearing out."
The words were slippery on the tongue but tough to force into reality. How long had I been planning on pretending like it wasn't happening? The chalk walls loomed over me from all angles as they had for several years. The stench became something that I was accustomed to, but it only seemed like yesterday that I was joking with my fiancé that every hospital smells like life, death, sex, and drama. It was obvious that I had watched way too many hospital based drama sitcoms.
That particular trip that my fiance and I had had made turned out to be a bitter one. We had been trying to conceive and after two years and three miscarriages, we were desperate to know some sort of truth. I hadn't seen a more sullen doctor than the man who walked into the room on the day of our visit. His lab coat was askew and his hair was slimy with grease. There were cuts on his face from shaving poorly, and stubble was peaking out of his weary, drooping face. His eyes were pale and to me they looked aged, but not in years. That man was aged in bad news.
He explained some things to us in a very detached voice, not making eye contact. I think that he was afraid of our bad news aging him more. I had a severely rare blood type. I understood that. But I didn't know what my rare blood type came with. I have AB RH negative blood. My fiancé had a positive blood type, and the fetuses that I had been trying so hard to nurture also must have had a positive blood type. An RH negative pregnant mother's body will try to reject her positive blooded baby in the womb. My body fought off my children as though they were a viruses. And I was oblivious until that appointment.
The doctor then went on to explain more about my blood type since it was painfully obvious that I knew little to nothing about it. I stopped listening after he told me that I would have a very hard time receiving blood from anyone because my blood type was rare. My body would not accept blood that wasn't a good match.
"There isn't much that you can do for me," my mouth was dry and I fruitlessly tried wet my lips. Years after that appointment, I sat in a room not too unlike that room that I got the news in. I couldn't stand to look at my doctor, so I looked everywhere but at him. My eyes rested on the window.
Dr. McCorston flipped through my charts and instantly was denying my words.
"Harper, don't be such a downer. You know that scientists and doctors are working all over the world trying to find a false blood that your type will take to."
My doctor was a peculiar fellow. He seemed to be the complete opposite of the man who had bared such bad news. He's in his early fifties and a complete clown. He wore slacks that were a bit too short and his socks never matched. Even though he had the money, he never seemed to have a pair of shoes that were new; they always had a hole in them and they were scoffed beyond shining. I had never seen him wear two ties that were the same, and he had been my doctor for four years. Perhaps that's where all of his money went- to buying new ties.
His nose was large. It mimicked a beak and on the bridge of his nose always sat a pair of large glasses that made his eyes look much larger than they truly were. His glasses were old and thick. He says that he's had them since he was in his late twenties. Once, instead of referring to his glasses as such, he called them bifocals. I could never let the man live it down.
Dr. McCorstons' hair was quite the site. It would stand on end and when he was in thought he would gather the graying and static-prone hair into his fists as if he was about to pull it into a pony tale. Once he had found his train of thought he would let his mane go and it would spring back into its original mess.
He had ape hands. There was no getting around it; even he could not deny how hairy his hands were. I convinced myself that he wears his big, bulky military watch to distract innocent bystanders from seeing his hands, but he had rejected that theory so many times that it had seemed to become our inside joke.
As far as patients and doctors go, I was sure that we were more friends than anything.
"I know that. And I also know that it could be years before they figure it out. You know that I won't last that long," I murmured, "My heart is failing me. I've been on the transplant list for years and who knows when it'll be my turn. I'm not likely to receive a heart because my body will likely reject it." My words weren't sad any more. They were dull and full of poison.
Out of the whole world's population, my blood type doesn't seem that rare. One of the biggest challenges for the blood type is getting pregnant. It is tricky, but science has developed vaccinations to support women with the blood type who want to be mothers.
Most people with my blood type can live a complete and happy life without trouble. That is, if they can get through it without some sort of cancer or sickness that needs treatment that involves blood transplants or organ replacement.
Perhaps I could have had a normal life, had my negative blood type not been paired with heart failure. Where as AB+ blood types can take any donors, I could only receive negative donors or else I would experience a severe hemolytic transfusion reaction. I was just a part of the unlucky 1% of the population that is AB Rh-. Finding a donor to match with me was statistically unlikely, especially given the fact that there were people in my blood type waiting for hearts before me.
I saw my doctor clear his throat and loosen his tie from the corner of my eye, "It's sort of stuffy in this room. Let me open the window."
Careful of my I.V, I reached up and grabbed my hair, tugging at it slightly before ruffling it. I shuddered a sigh and apologized. He nodded it off like the socially awkward guy that he was and sat on the table that was set near my bed, propping one of his legs on the chair and leaning on his knee.
We stared at each other for a bit and he broke the stare by putting down his clipboard and shuffling in one of his coat pockets.
"Here," he whipped out a handful of Smarties, "I got you something."
I eyed the candy with caution, but took it gratefully with a small smile, "Alright, you have me buttered up, what's the news?"
Dr. McCorston always would bribe me with the small, round and bound candy. I wasn't supposed to have the sweets as much as I did, but I always found someone to smuggle some to me. Only rarely was it that I got my quick fix of sugar from my own doctor though.
"Oh, I just want you to meet someone, that's all-" There was a knock at the door, interrupting Dr. McCorston, "That must be him!"
Dr. McCorston hopped off the table with a spring in his step. He pushed up his bifocals and swung the door open, "My dear, this is Dr. Cullen."
I tilted my head.
He's misplaced, I decided instantly, He doesn't belong here.
Dr. Cullen was sort of, really, aesthetically pleasing to the eye. He was very poised and wore a kind smile as he nodded to my doctor in thanks and then approached me with his hand extended, "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. You must be Harper."
His voice was very deep and it melted from his tongue. Placing my treats down on the bed right beside me, I accepted his hand, only looking down when our hands made contact. His hand was lividly freezing. I frowned.
"Maybe I'm not the only person that should be on one of the hospital cots," I said, placing my free hand over his, "You are cold."
My voice held a very matter-of-fact tone, and I looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Dr. Cullen's eyes were gold. I had seen light brown eyes that look like light caramel, but Dr. Cullen's eyes were made of sweet tree sap and his hair was a pleasant blond.
I tilted my head to the other side in thought as he chuckled politely. I let go of his hands and looked at him expectantly.
"This isn't anything out of the ordinary for me."
It wasn't the explanation that I was looking for but it would have to do.
I crossed my arms lightly and looked over the doctor. He seemed perfectly normal besides his striking looks. His shoes looked to be expensive Italian leather and his socks were not showing, his shirt was tucked in and all of the appropriate buttons were done. His lab coat held its perfect white color, not a stain in sight. His front breast pocket held a small assortment of pens. His tie was a solid blue, unlike my doctors crazy, flamboyantly designed ties.
He seemed like a lost model in a bad medical care ad.
He was a bit boring.
Tsking softly at my own silly thoughts, I turned to Dr. McCorston, "This has been lovely. But I'm dieing to know why you brought him here." I laughed shortly at my own joke.
"Harper," my doctor started with a very unsure face, "There is no easy way to say this."
My stomach dropped to my knees, "Yes?"
"Dr. Cullen is going to be your doctor."
There was a really long pause where no one said anything and the only thing I could hear or comprehend was the little girl outside my door that was being wheeled away as she chattered quickly. Her hair was pulled into pigtails and the woman wheeling her- who I suspected to be her mother- casually plucked away a thick, long lock of hair that was shedding as she responded lovingly to the girl. Once the hall outside my room was clear and I couldn't see anything through the blinds that kept my glass room somewhat private, I noticed the clock on the wall ticking slowly.
My toes curled and once what he said settled in, I tightened my jaw, "I see."
"I meant to tell you earlier but-"
"It's fine," I clenched my hands together, "Really, I'll be fine. You don't need to explain yourself to me."
My doctor… or rather, the man who used to be my doctor, sighed and smiled quirkily.
"Thank you, Harper. You can be so understanding! Dr. Cullen and I have a lot to settle before I leave, but I won't be making it back to this room. So stay strong, alright you little Downer?" I don't know what I was expecting. Dr. McCorston had at least a floors worth of patients, why would he stop and say good bye before he left? He had to introduce Dr. Cullen to all of his new patients, and I didn't even want to begin to think of the paperwork that had to be filled out.
I nodded stiffly, not looking at him directly. Candy seemed like a good idea so I unwrapped one of my candies, ignoring the somewhat erratic sounds that my heart was sending to the machines that I was hooked to.
Sighing, my former doctor hopped over and hesitantly patted my shoulder. He turned and then he and the man who was going to be my doctor stepped out.
"It was a pleasure to meet you Harper," Carlisle called back, "I'll be seeing you soon." I only looked at him briefly and then nodded with a tight smile.
My former doctor only spared me one look. And then he left with only a small wave and a chipper 'goodbye'.
Right before my eyes, one of the only stable components in my life walked out the door.
