Hello ^_^

I wrote a series of Twilight fanfics when a friend of mine went through a very bad break-up. They were to keep her busy, so perhaps it's not so great. Anyways. This is my take on how Esme and Carlisle first met (as Stephenie has claimed they met when she broke her leg).

I do not own Twilight, just writing fanfiction here 

Enjoy 

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Broken Leg

Esme looked both ways before closing the door and making a run for it. She knew her parents wouldn't approve, as they never did. And this time, it would be even worse because it was already late. The sun was setting behind the trees of their neighbour's farm.

But she had to go. She could not miss this great event she would probably not get to witness any time soon. And, after all, what could go wrong? No one would see her, no one would even know she had left the house!

Of course, there was the tiny fact that, if she got caught, she would be in an awful lot of trouble. She was grounded for the next two weeks, and had already been so for another two. The reason, according to her, was very stupid, and it should not keep her away from witnessing that which she had anticipated for so long.

"They can't keep me fro it!" she said to herself as she ran cross-country. It would take her less time to go by the main road, but she could risk being seen. Not that anyone would be looking out. No. Everyone was there, where she wanted to go, and absolutely no one would be paying attention.

Still, she was cautious, and ran and jumped fences as quickly as her dress allowed. Nothing fancy, of course, she hadn't even changed, but that way, if she had to run back and pretend she had never left home, she could do it.

She knew she was almost there when she heard the music and saw the lights. Josephine had told her exactly where the wedding would take place, and the wide range of trees, at her request, which she could climb in order do see the whole thing. That had been the plan. Esme would not miss her best friend's wedding just because she was grounded and, thus, not allowed to go. She would be at Josephine's wedding, just as she would be at hers.

She looked at all the trees around her, choosing carefully which one would be best to conceal her, and let her observe. As her dress was dark green, she did not have to worry much about being seen on that account. She had planned thoroughly, and now, as she was there, they were about to start. Best to act quickly.

Choosing the tree, she climbed as fast as she could and decided upon a sturdy branch to sit and look down. The family was already parading in, with all the guests, including Esme's parents, standing up to receive them. The groom stood proudly under the arbour, tall and handsome. He'd be good to Josephine, Esme had decided a long time ago. She had seen them courting since the age of fourteen, when Mark had been eighteen, and knew he would be a devoted husband who would take care of her friend.

Josephine, holding on to the arm of her father, looked radiant. The dress was absolutely beautiful, and her hair had been done perfectly, just as she had wanted it. Nothing could go wrong on this perfect day.

But Josephine looked a bit worried, and around.

"You alright?" her father whispered discreetly.

"I'm fine, father," she said, still looking around.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to turn back. You are so young, after all."

"I'm fine, father," she repeated. "I'm just… sad… that Esme couldn't be here."

"You know her parents grounded her."

"For no good reason!"

"This is not the time to think about this, my love," he lifted her hand and kissed it.

"I know…" And then, Josephine locked eyes with Esme, who have her the thumbs up, and the smile returned to her face. She was relieved to know her friend was there. "Let's do this."

Esme had some trouble keeping herself quiet during the ceremony, as excited as she was about the whole thing. She had chosen a very good spot, with a good view and very well concealed. She could see her parents, but they could not see her, and she'd have plenty of warning before they decided to leave. Not that they would, any time soon…

She bit her lips to keep herself from whistling when Josephine and Mark kissed, under the light of the many lanterns illuminating the yard. It was all too beautiful, too great to behold. All that mattered to her at the moment, was that Josephine was happy. Perhaps one day she'd be as happy as that. She'd fall in love with a good man, they would marry, and Josephine would be there with her… not hiding in a tree, of course.

And then the feast commenced, food and dancing, and the guests had a marvellous time. Esme did not envy them much, because at least she had been able to witness it all. She wished she could congratulate Josephine, but knew she could do it later.

But… wait… what was she doing? Esme could see her pulling Mark from the dance floor in her direction, with lots of questioning eyes on them. She just smiled them off, and said something that Esme couldn't hear, and it made the others laugh and ignore them.

"Where are we going?" Mark asked, as they were very close to the tree.

"You'll see," Josephine said, and stopped, leaning against the tree. "So, are you enjoying yourself?"

"What?" Mark asked, confused, and then heard Esme's laughter.

"I could be more comfortable," Esme admitted, "but yes, I am enjoying myself."

"Should we bring you some cake?" Josephine asked.

"That's alright. If I stain my dress it could be suspicious…"

"You've been hiding there all this time?" Mark asked, amused.

"Sure have. Did you think my parents would really keep me from your wedding?"

"Well, no. I was wondering when you'd show up. I must admit I almost expected you to show up at night."

"And interrupt your wedding night?"

"Esme!" Josephine blushed.

"You know I wouldn't," she laughed. "I'm curious, but not THAT curious."

"I wish you could have been there with me," Josephine said, hugging Mark.

"I wish I could have, too," Esme said. "But you know my parents… they are not very tolerant, and whatever tiny thing you do, lands you grounded."

"I think it was very unfair," Mark said, chancing a glance up. "And I think you did the right thing."

"Yeah, well, they don't see it like that, and won't see it like that. Just because Marie made it to the altar at fifteen, they think something's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Josephine said. "You're the best friend I could ever ask for!"

"And so are you," Esme said. And she would have elaborated, but she could not. "Holy crap!" she said. "They're saying goodbye!"

"What?!" Josephine turned to the crowd again.

"My parents! They are greeting your parents goodbye! I have to go!"

"We'll stall them," Mark said, and pulled Josephine with him. "Thanks for coming, Esme."

"Yes, thank you so much!" Josephine said.

"No problem! Go!"

She waited until they were far enough to begin her descent. She realized, then, that climbing up had been far easier than climbing down would be. She was quiet, and kept her eyes on her parents half the time. She could see them talking to Mark and Josephine now, who appeared to be thanking them.

'Good,' she thought. 'Keep them busy while I… I…'

Her next step down, her foot got caught in her skirt and she slipped, the speed and her weight causing her to lose her grip and fall down towards the ground. She was still so high up she had time to realize what was going on, and think about how to land, feet first, so she wouldn't break anything.

But she fell with a very loud crunch, which would have been completely drowned by her scream had she not bit her lips so hard she even drew blood. The pain on her left leg was horrible, so she sat there for a minute, trying to calm down. It would go away, and then she'd run home before her parents noticed.

As she tried to stand up, though, she realized it would be no good. The pain was too strong, and she could feel herself crying now.

"Are you alright?" She was startled by the very young voice, and looked up into Josephine's little brother's eyes.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Should I call my daddy?" he asked.

"I don't know if…"

"You're crying!" he said. "And you have blood on your lip! DADDY!!!!"

He screamed before she could do anything, and it had exactly the opposite effect than she would have wanted, because not only his father appeared, but hers as well, along with a few other men, including Mark. They all looked at her, startled.

"Esme!" her mother cried. "What are you doing here?!"

"I think she's hurt," the boy said.

"What happened?!" Mark was on his knees next to her the next second. "Are you alright?"

"I fell…" she said, ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"You fell down the tree?" he seemed horrified, and she nodded. "Can you stand?"

"No…" she cried harder. "I think my leg is broken…"

"We need to get you to the doctor, then," he said. "Pass your arms around my neck, I'll carry you."

She did as told, and soon she was airborne. Mark was strong, but he struggled with her weight a bit. Esme kept her eyes closed, feeling her father's gaze burning unto her back. They were angry, she knew, she had seen their looks. This would only make them angrier.

"You'll be alright," Josephine said, and Esme opened her eyes to find her rushing next to Mark. "You'll be alright."

"I'm so sorry, Josephine."

"Don't worry about it. I'm really glad you came."

"Me, too."

"Put her in the car…" her father said sharply, opening the door. "I'll drive her to the doctor's house."

"But that cannot be," Josephine said, suddenly. "He's not here! Remember? His cousin was getting married this weekend, too; he left for Cleveland two days ago!"

"Argh!" Esme's father growled. "You had to pick tonight to fall of a tree! If you only did as you're told…!"

"What are we going to do?" her mother asked.

"We drive to Columbus, we have no choice."

"At this hour?!"

"What else can we do? Get in."

He slammed the back door once Esme was inside, and got into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Now Esme knew he was furious. This was definitely bad, and it was all her fault. For this, they could be angry, she gave them every reason to be angry… but…

"You really need to learn to do as you're told," her father said, seething. "I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour anymore! You are old enough to know right from wrong, Esme, and if we say you are grounded, you are grounded! I am extending it, too, another month."

"Father… it was my best friend's wedding…" she said weakly, as the pain in her leg was almost unbearable.

"I don't care, Esme. You should have thought about that before going on disappointing us. You need to be responsible for your actions. Now, be quiet."

The ride was long and quiet. Her father did not even turn on the radio, and he did not speak to her mother. All she had was her pain, and her occasional gasps, which she tried to keep to a minimum, lest they made her father angrier. Once in a while he muttered something, which generally had to do with her being unruly and a lot more trouble than her sister Marie had been. She did her best to ignore him, and in that sense, the pain helped.

By the time they reached the first hospital they found, it was almost eleven pm. Her father yanked her out of the car unceremoniously, and half dragged her to the emergency till, where a tired looking nurse in a pristine white uniform turned to look at them from a magazine. Her father grunted the problem, and the nurse told them to take a seat.

They had to wait for a while, for it seemed that only one doctor was working the emergency room that night, and he was treating a gunshot victim. So they sat on the uncomfortable chairs in silence for a while, until her mother could not take it anymore.

"How can you be so irresponsible, Esme? Climbing trees! How many times have I told you not to do it? It's not a very lady-like thing to do! You'll never get a husband like that!"

"And I don't want one yet," she replied, quietly.

"You're just saying that because you didn't like Albert Jones."

"No, I mean it, mum. I don't want to get married yet. I'm not ready."

"Like hell you are," her father spat, "behaving like a little girl… like a monkey!"

"Father, please…"

"Be quiet, Esme. You have disappointed us greatly tonight, and you can be sure that…"

"Esme Platt?" a male voice interrupted her father, and they all looked up. Esme's mouth fell open. In front of her was the most handsome young man she had ever seen. His blond hair glistened even in the faint hospital light, and his skin was very pale. The only thing marring his beauty were the dark circles under his eyes.

She raised her hand after a few seconds, feeling very stupid.

"Broken leg?" he approached her, and didn't even ask which leg it was, his cold hands probing her left one at once. "Hmm… yes. This will need a cast." He stood up again, and look at Mr. Platt. "I'm Dr. Cullen, I'll be treating your daughter." He turned to Esme again. "If you'll come with me…" He offered her his arm and helped her stand up, and then, ever so slowly, helped her jump towards the examination room. Her father tried to follow, but Dr. Cullen had stopped him. "I'm sorry, sir, but the examination room is quite small. Four of us in there, it will be crowded." He motioned to another nurse to follow him, and closed the door. "Now, that's better, I think."

"Sorry?" Esme asked as he lifted her effortlessly and sat her on a reclined chair.

"It seems to me that you'll be more comfortable without them in the room," he smiled at her. "After they way they were yelling at you…"

"Yes…" she said, and tried to look away. It wasn't easy, for her eyes always wandered back to his face. He was sitting on a stool now, with her leg resting on his lap, and he was removing her shoe. He turned away as the nurse lifted her dress and removed her stocking, and then, with the skirt around her knee, and her leg bare, he set to work. It was painful as he set the bone back in place, but she did not scream, only bit her lip further, causing it to bleed again.

"I'm sorry," he said, and fished a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her. "So you can wipe yourself. If you need to bite again, you can go ahead and bite it."

"Thank you," she said stupidly, her eyes locked in his. His smile had drawn her into shock.

He continued working, now bandaging her leg tightly, asking once in a while if it was uncomfortable for her, and then he started applying a thin layer of something gooey with a brush. It raised her curiosity.

"What is that?" she asked.

"My special recipe," he smiled, "it will keep your skin moisturized while you have the cast on."

"Oh… okay."

It took time to apply the chalk, but he was fast, and efficient.

"So, what happened to you?" he asked. "Your parents seemed very angry."

"I fell off a tree," she said.

"Hm… dangerous. I bet they don't approve of you climbing trees?"

"No, they don't. But this time was especially bad, because I was sneaking out…"

"Sneaking out? Now, that's interesting."

She didn't know whether he was mocking her or what. His expression did not show any judgement from his part, so she decided to keep talking.

"My best friend got married today… and I wasn't allowed to go."

"So you had to sneak out, I see."

"Well, yes! Wouldn't you have? Josephine is my best friend! She'll be at my wedding, I had to be at hers!"

"So why weren't you allowed to go?"

"I was grounded…"

"Aha. Harsh, I must say. Grounded from your best friend's wedding…"

"Yes, so I had to sneak out and see the whole thing from a tree. It was all going well, until the time I had to go back… I was climbing down as I fell…"

"I'm sorry to hear it. I hope your wedding is not too soon, you have to wear this for at least three weeks."

"Oh, no!" Esme said quickly, making him look up, worried. "I'm not getting married any time soon! That's the whole problem."

"I'm afraid I don't follow," he said, his eyes returning to his work. The cast was growing steadily.

"They grounded me because I refused a proposal two weeks ago. They said it was a good match, but I did not agree."

"I see."

"So my parents got angry, and said that if I didn't want to get married, there was no point in me going to any weddings at all. And so… I had to sneak out."

Dr. Cullen said nothing, and that irritated her.

"What, do you take their side?"

"No, not at all," he said, serious, concentrating on his work. "If you aren't ready to be married, I don't see why you should be punished for it. I don't think marriage is something to be rushed."

"Are you married?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. He looked up, his expression unreadable but pleasant. "Sorry…"

"It's okay," he smiled. "I'm not married."

"May I ask why?"

"I guess I just haven't found the right one," he smiled again, but he wasn't looking at her.

"You have time," she leaned her head back, staring at the roof. "You are still young."

"Thank you," he said. "I do hope you find a good man."

"Thanks…" And she couldn't help imagining herself marrying this Dr. Cullen, so handsome and so caring… She snapped out of it before she could get carried away and start imagining what their children would look like.

Look like? It was the first time that evening that she wondered what she did look like. Feeling her head, she realized her ponytail had fallen, and a lot of her wavy hair was sticking out at all the wrong places. She sighed exasperated. Coupled with the blood on her chin, which she could feel, sticky on her fingers, she was sure she made a very pretty picture.

"So," he asked, after a while, as he fanned the cast to dry a bit, "how was the wedding?"

"Oh, it was great!" she smiled, the spark returning to her eyes. "Josephine looked so beautiful! And Mark looked so handsome. They make a great couple, you know?"

"I'm glad to hear it."

"It's like… he courted her for two years before she finally said yes!"

"And how old is your friend?"

"Sixteen, same as I am," she threw in, just for the sake of it.

"And Mark?"

"Twenty."

"Not bad ages, I'd say. Though I wasn't anywhere near to getting married when I was twenty… perhaps I'm still not."

"How old are you, if I may ask?"

"Twenty-seven," he said, sure of himself.

"You look younger than that," Esme teased.

He looked both ways, then back at her, a conspirational look in his eyes. He inched closer.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked, and she nodded. "I told the hospital that's how old I am, so they take me seriously. I'm really twenty-three."

"Wow," she whispered, impressed. "And a doctor already!"

"I like learning," he said, inching back and continuing to fan. "So tell me, how long have you and Josephine been friends?"

"Nine years or so," she said, knowing he was changing the subject for obvious reasons. "We started school together."

"I see, a lasting friendship."

"And it will last forever."

"I do hope so."

They conversed like that, of trivial things while the cast hardened, and the time ticked by. Esme hardly noticed it, for she was too engrossed in the doctor, and she told him of her house, her sister, her friends, things she liked to do… she was quite entertained, and he listened to everything, and asked questions. He mentioned his parents, too, claiming his mother had died when he was born, and that his father was a retired minister. He had not seen him for some years, because of his studies, but he hoped he'd be proud. Esme assured him of it.

"Dr. Cullen!" a nurse burst in the next second. "We've got another one!"

He was on his feet at once.

"You stay here, Esme," he said, don't move for another 30 min, and it should be dry enough for you to go home."

"Okay," she said.

"You take care," he smiled.

"Thank you, you too!"

And he ran out.

Whatever the emergency was, she never found out, for her thirty minutes passed and she was allowed to go, without him returning to check on her. But because of that she was able to stand all the yelling of her parents on her way back, because all she could think about was the wonderful man Dr. Cullen was, so dedicated to his work, and so good at it at such a young age… with a smile that made her forget she was in pain…

But having no excuse to go all the way to Columbus, she never had the chance to see him again. And yet, she thought about him every day, every single day of her life.