Ch. 50 Do No Harm
"Mr. Collins, how are you feeling today? Any better?"
"I think... I will survive, Iris." The white-haired, bearded old man had to pause to cough before offering a near toothless smile. He wasn't doing well...Shit. Please be ok. You're like the bald-mouthed version of that sweet old man off of the first Harry Potter movie who played Dumbledore—the guy who took over after him was too gruff and creepy to play the part...personal opinion—and I couldn't stand it if nice Dumbledore freaking died before my very eyes!
"Good. How about I get this mess out of the way for you?" I handed him a glass of water and moved to change his sheets for the day.
I had been working at the same small hospital as Carlisle for a little over three months as a nurse's aid and was living under the guise that I was Esme's niece. I wasn't too prideful to accept the job, though it was not a nursing position, and, honestly, it would have been really suspicious if I had swooped in here in my nineteen year old body expecting a job as a nurse and acting like I owned the place. No, it would be best to keep my head down and work my way up. I had worked as a CNA for several years before nursing school. This was not too different—perhaps more mopping—but I could do that.
I needed to grab more linens for the next bed change from the storage room, so I made my way downstairs. The phone was ringing off the hook. Now usually there would be multiple ladies working the desk, but Tilley had called in sick, and Violet left early for an appointment of her own. I wasn't sure where Agnes went...maybe to the back room...
"Hello, Dr. Cullen's office." I answered in my best secretary voice—you know the one where your voice becomes unnaturally high, the result of a biologically ingrained defense mechanism to seem as non-threatening as possible.
"Help! Help! Please! He needs a doctor!" I looked up from the desk to see a young girl, maybe in her early twenties or so, dragging an older man in a brown suit through the door.
"I'm sorry, there's an emergency. Please call back later for an appointment!" I slammed the phone down without waiting for an answer...Let Agnes smooth that over in a bit. "What is it?" I fell to my knees beside the man who was clutching his chest. Oh fucking shit!
"Arrrrr—" An awful noise left the man's mouth before he passed out. His lips were cyanotic. No no no...
"Carlisle!" I called as I fumbled to find a pulse, which of course there was none. I instantly began performing chest compressions.
All my training and natural instincts from years past were resurfacing. It was pure muscle memory at this point after so many times of this exact scenario in the ER and ICU"...28, 29, 30..." ok two breaths—1, wait..., 2. Compressions..."...3, 4, 5, 6..." I was mouthing to myself as I forced the chest in and waited for the recoil at the rhythm of one hundred beats per minute. I was actually humming the tune of 'Staying Alive' in my mind to keep up the pace while I counted. "26, 27, 28, 29, 30..." Two breaths... I could think of nothing else besides the task at hand. I did several cycles this way. Compressions, head tilt, breaths, repeat...before finally I heard Carlisle beside me.
"What are you—oh. Genius...Let me." He pushed me aside to continue my method. He even pretended to breath heavily with exertion for the sake of the scared girl who watched us in horror and fascination from a few feet away.
"Thirty compressions to two breaths, Carlisle!" I heaved through my heavy breathing, and leaned against the wall. It had been awhile. I forgot how much doing compressions and the adrenaline rushing through you would take it out of you...Fuck I'm out of shape.
There was a quick intake of air, and a quiet noise that sounded like, "Gugh..."
"Daddy?!" The girl flung herself to the man. He didn't respond, but it was obvious that he was breathing again, our resuscitative efforts were not pointless. I sighed in relief and shot a look over at Carlisle who, while still assessing the man—stethoscope and all—spared a glance back at me. He had the oddest expression, borderline in wonder and a smile.
Agnes finally reappeared and she looked awful. A stomach bug was going around the office, and had probably gotten around to her.
The man was sent up to an ICU type unit, which really wasn't too different from the other wards except that it had more bed-ridden, deathly looking patients...sigh...come on twenty first century medicine!
A few hours later when I finally finished my shift I stood in the bathroom staring in the mirror as I absentmindedly washed my hands. I had a headache, my arms hurt, and my stomach felt like it was churning on itself.
I had pushed through the whole scenario earlier out of shear reflex, not mentally processing what was happening, but now a myriad of emotions were all assaulting me at once. I sunk to the floor as images of John's wife came back...the peaceful woman who died too young...doing compressions on her...I didn't save her...the the feeling of having compressions performed on myself. I winced in remembered pain before crawling to the toilet just fast enough to heave my lunch from four hours ago into it. Oh God. I nearly lost that man. It was like it was happening all over again. The woman. The water basin. John. The gunshot. Sandy's screams. Aro. All the blood. The fucking blood...Holy Shit. I vomited again and again until nothing was left, and I was just dry heaving. My stomach yelled in protest. So many people had died at my hands. I was a monster...so many people...none of them were murderers. I had not even one pitiful excuse besides my own selfishness to cite for their deaths. I was as bad as Ted Bundy or any of the other psychopaths out there. Edward had it all wrong. I was the one who was damned.
I curled into a ball in the floor, and let my anxiety, panic, sadness, shame, anger, fear...all of it consumed me. I cried and cried some more, unable to follow anything going on around me. Fucking shit!
"Iris?!" It was Agnes whose voice broke through my walls. She was on the outside of the stall I hid in.
I pushed myself up off the floor, swiping furiously at my eyes. I'm sure I looked like shit, but oh well. Hide it. Shove it all back inside, Iris. You're going to scare her. "Agnes? Sorry, did you need something?"
"Are you alright? You sounded upset. Dr. Cullen asked me to come check on you when you didn't come back outside. I think he's ready to go home." Her voice was timid. She was a very meek girl. She would never murder people for the hell of it...
Carlisle must have heard me acting crazy in here, and sent in Agnes rather than barging into the women's restroom himself. There's no way he missed that show. I blew my nose into a tissue, standing up and brushing at my skirt, and sweeping a few strays hairs back. I counted to three and took a deep breath before opening the stall door.
"I'm fine. Just a little shaken up after today. Thank you, Agnes. Please tell Dr. Cullen that I'll be out in just a second." I forced myself to smile at the girl. She was older physically than me I guess, but my psyche was all messed up with the time travel and reversed aging... this is probably how the vampires felt after several decades of being stuck in their never-aging bodies. It's all very confusing, or maybe I'm just exceptionally slow to understand...
Agnes looked like she wasn't sure if she should leave me, but finally she walked out. I looked at myself in the mirror again. To say that I was a hot mess would be too kind. I was fucking freak show. Mascara was all over my cheeks. My hair had fallen half out of the messy bun I had pinned this morning. My shirt was untucked, and there were smudges on my skirt. A fucking disaster for sure.
I quickly washed my face and fixed my clothes as best I could, pulling my jacket which I had left resting on the sink before over my shirt to cover what I could. I smoothed my skirt once more and rearranged my hair before leaving the restroom.
Carlisle was just outside the door. He didn't say anything until we reached the car. He had graciously offered the umbrella as it rained on our walk to the lot. As soon as the car door closed, he turned to me. "Iris? You were amazing earlier. You saved that man. Your technique was so innovative." He was smiling ear to ear. His expression filled with awe and pride.
"I know." I said simply looking to my lap. I didn't want to sound arrogant, but I did know the benefits of effective cardio-pulmonary resuscitative efforts. I had done my master's thesis on it a few years ago...or ninety years from now...whatever. I shrugged to myself.
"Then what's wrong?" Carlisle huffed out a bewildered laugh. Save a man and you should be happy, right? Not quite...
"It just brought back some not so good memories. I'm fine now."
"It's ok if you need to talk about it."
"Thank you, but I'm more of a wallower. I'll let you know if I change my mind though..." I'm a fucking monster. You wouldn't understand. You're too pure...too good.
"It might not be exactly the same situation, but I do know what it's like to not be able to talk about the things which effect you the most. I spent nearly three centuries alone. These last fifteen years have been the greatest of my existence since I have a family now...people who can listen and truly understand. It's not healthy for your mind to compress so much of itself all the time. You're not alone now, Iris, never forget that."
'You're not alone...' Edward had said back in Denali and so many other times...I sighed to myself. You said you would be honest with them. You have to talk about these things with someone and Edward isn't here.
"I know we briefly explained things to you when I arrived so suddenly—the books, my...err...trip here, and time with your family...the Volturi..." I paused to take a moment to calm my beating heart. Carlisle looked to me patiently but intently. "...but I failed to tell you the exact details of everything. This might be more than you're asking for..."
"Go on." He encouraged.
"My parents were fond of alcohol. Like, I'm pretty sure they loved the stuff more than they loved me. I had an overall terrible childhood. I had no siblings, my parents fought a lot. It was lonely, and there was physical abuse involved with the ridiculous amount of alcohol intake...but we had money, so many of the typical markers for abusive situations were ignored and pushed aside for the sake of keeping up appearances. I learned pretty quickly that if I wanted something, I had to do it on my own, or risk more yelling, berating, or...beating..." I shook my head and laughed bitterly. "I left my home at the age of sixteen, and made my own way through school. I had just finished my masters in nursing before I came here, which I know may be shocking or maybe mean very little to you in this time since the job of a nurse isn't as respected yet, but it's quite the feat in 2020, especially since I had to save my own money and live without my parents from such a young age." I looked out the window. Carlisle had been silently listening as he drove. He pulled into the driveway and turned to look at me seriously.
"I'm sorry, Iris. That sounds like it was a very difficult time for you." He reaches across the console to place his hand on my forearm gently. "May I ask what happened earlier?"
"It's hard to explain...That man...the one whose heart stopped today...it just reminded me of some bad stuff. Carlisle, I'm worried that I'm so lost, so damaged, that I may never get my happy ending. I don't...deserve it. Every time I get close—that Edward and I are nearly there—something happens to mess things up again. I keep screwing things up."
"I'm not sure I understand. What could possibly be so terrible?" He was studying my face for the answers, always the observationist.
"When I left Edward the first time back in Forks...I woke up, and I was with the Volturi..."
"Yes, Edward told us that you spent some time with them, but that didn't seem to be your fault—"
"No, but what I did with them...or rather what I didn't stop them from doing to me was my fault."
"I'm not following." Oh he was going to kick me out on the streets when he heard this. Iris, you should just shut up. No, I have to be honest. I need to say this. Ugh I want to vomit again...
"I killed thousands of humans. I knew there was a better way. I know your philosophy, and I wholeheartedly support it, but I didn't want things to be so hard anymore. I didn't want to give a damn about anyone but myself. It was easy—horrifyingly easy—to just give in to my vampiric nature...maybe even my human nature and do the selfish thing. I drank more than my share, gorged myself, without concern about who it was or where they were from...if they had families...what if they had children? What if they had an Edward out there waiting for them? What if...what if..." I could barely breath. I was wheezing in and out.
"Iris." Carlisle tried to get my attention, but I wasn't having it.
He wasn't going to talk me out of this. I didn't deserve to feel at peace about my decisions to take innocent lives. I couldn't recall one of their faces. Not one! Damnit! Damnit all. I was so fucking sick! How could I? How did I do it? Why did I think that changing some bed sheets and mopping the floors would atone for the sins I had committed? Shit! What the hell was wrong with me?!
"Iris?!" Carlisle's voice rose in panic, but I could barely hear it.
"I did it...it was my...fault...auhh...I can't...breathe...I—" Everything went black.
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