The last thing I remember before my head collided with the steering wheel and I drifted off into unconsciousness was the face of that beautiful, confused angel.

Beep…beep…beep…

My ears started working first before any other senses came to. All I could hear was an annoying beeping, which I would have stopped if my arms weren't so damn heavy. Thankfully, my eyes opened a second later and I noticed all of the familiar bright lights and sterile white. The hospital, which was somewhat like a second home to my clumsy self.

My brain was still completely fuzzy, and I couldn't quite remember what brought me to this latest visit. That was always a bad sign. All I could remember was the beautiful face of an angel.

I tried to sit up, but the pain in my head became too unbearable, and I quickly crashed back down onto the mattress. So there I laid, trying to figure out why I was here. Finally, one of the nurses walked by and noticed that my eyes were open.

"Hey Bella, how are you feeling?" said the friendly nurse, Angela. She was a really good friend to me every time I had to come in here, always keeping thing light and joking, despite the setting. Although today she seemed a bit on edge coming in to the tiny hospital room.

"I've been better. How about yourself?" I asked, trying to show her that I was okay, in order to stop her from worrying.

"I'm fine," she said, but she still looked incredibly nervous.

"So, out of curiosity, what brings me here today?" I asked, still trying to figure out why I was lying in this bed and who that angel was.

She hesitated, shuffling her feet before answering. "Umm, let me go get the doctor. He would love to know that you are now awake, and he'll be able to give you an accurate description of you're injuries," responded Angela, before quickly exiting the room and escaping down the hallway.

Now this worried me. Angela had always been there to tell me what was up. I started panicking, knowing that something must be wrong. I stared up at the tiled ceiling, trying to calm myself, until a figure appeared at the foot of the bed.

I glanced up to see my favorite doctor, Carlisle Cullen. I couldn't help but calm down a bit at the friendly, familiar face. For the past year or so, he has helped me through almost every single injury I came across. Which is quite a lot knowing me.

**********************************************************

Fourteen Months Earlier

It was a hot June day, and I was crammed in the ER waiting room with a lot of other injured patients. I'd already been there for over an hour as the nurses slowly made their way through the crowded room. I was opted to wait fairly long, since my injury didn't seem to need immediate attention, unlike some of the people that came through here, such as the man who accidentally cut off two of his toes. I've spent a lot of times in ERs and have seen a lot of crazy things, but two severed toes even make me fairly queasy.

Finally one of the nurses called my name and directed me back to one of the exam rooms. She took some more basic information from me that I had left off my chart, and left me there to patiently wait for a doctor to come and help me out.

After counting 102 of the ceiling tiles, the door in front of me creaked open. I glanced up and the slight annoyance I had from waiting so long I had almost immediately disappeared.

A young handsome man, stood stunningly in front of me. He was pale as snow, but had the most perfect features I had ever seen on a man. I stilled for a few second, before I realized I had been starring. A familiar heat filled my face as I quickly looked down.

I faint chuckle came from the man, before he decided to speak, "Hello, my name is Carlisle Cullen, and you must be Isabella."

"Bella," I mumbled as a reflex, still looking down at my incredibly interesting shoe laces.

"Well then Bella, what seems to be the problem?" he asked. I looked up to see a polite smile chiseled on his beautiful face. I was slightly surprised that this man could be my doctor. He didn't look a day over 25.

I took a rather deep breath before replying, louder this time, but still nervously. "Broke my wrist. I'm pretty sure that it's just a hairline fracture of the ulna."

He seemed slightly stunned by my confession, before chuckling again. "Well, would you mind if I took a look?" he said, reaching his hand out.

I held out my left arm and he gently began to exam it. His hands were ice cold, but felt really good against my injury, so I didn't mind at all.

"It looks like you're right about the fracture, but we'll have to get an x-ray to make sure," he said, while releasing my arm. "Where did you learn so much about fractures, by the way?"

The heat came back to my face before I answer. "Well, this isn't my first broken arm in my life, not even close. It's actually more like my fifth."

"How do you break so many bones?" he asked politely, but his face became suddenly serious. I was quick to correct him though. I knew that face. It was the "child abuse" face that doctors give you when you show up to the ER way too often.

"I fall down a lot, Dr. Cullen. Seriously, I wasn't meant to walk. There is seriously something wrong with my coordination, and my luck. Today a slipped on a banana, which I only thought was possible in cartoons until now, and fell down some stairs."

He seemed to calm down a bit at that and we talked about all of my other unfortunate injuries on our way to the X-ray room. Dr. Cullen ended up to be a pretty laid back guy when you really got to talking to him, and he was a fountain of information on anything medical and historical. From that day on we became pretty good friends, seeing as I was in the hospital every few weeks with a new injury.

*************************************************************

Present

"Hey Carlisle," I greeted as he slowly grabbed the chart from the end of my bed. His face looked worried, mirroring the expression that Angela's had earlier.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, not looking me in the eye as he read down my chart.

"I guess I'm fine, but might I ask what time it is…and what day?" I asked nervously, still having no idea what happened.

"It's 10:43, Tuesday morning," he finally met my eyes, but now he was looking at me as if I was crazy; great.

I nodded my head to his response, relieved that I had only been out for a day. The last thing I could remember was coming home from the store Monday afternoon.

"So are you going to tell me what happened or ignore me also, because this is really starting to freak me out?"

He hesitated for a second, before he took in my expression. It must have been determined, because he took a long sigh before opening his mouth to speak. "Bella, you were in a car accident."

"Oh," was all I could really say. I still couldn't remember being in an accident, or figure out why I was in a car. I usually walked everywhere. Carlisle still looked nervous, like I was going to start freaking out or something, but I couldn't quite figure out why.

"So," I began, not knowing what to say. I spoke the first thought that came to my mind, "When am I going home?"

Carlisle opened his mouth to speak, but then quickly shut it. If I wasn't completely and utterly confused before, that did the trick. In the entire time I had known Carlisle, he had never once had trouble with finding the right words. I always counted on him for knowing the right thing to say.

Finally, he spoke. "Bella, you're not going home," he said in a calm, careful voice.

"Why not?" I asked carefully. How could my car accident have effected whether I could go home or not? Then it clicked.

"Oh my gosh! Was my mom in the car?!? Is she okay?" My breathing increased almost to the point of hyperventilation as I went through the possibilities of what could have happened.

"Calm down Bella. Your mother was not in the car with you," he said, placing his cold hand on my shoulder to keep me still, which was a good thing, seeing as I was still in a lot of pain from the…car accident.

Then I realized that he didn't answer my question. "But she's okay, right?" I whisper. I knew the answer even before he spoke by the sorrowful expression on his face.

"Bella," he began, even more calm and quiet then before, "Last night, your mother, she was murder. Your step-father, Phil, shot her after a domestic dispute."

His concerned face became unfocused as visions from last night flooded into my mind. Me, hiding in my room; the gun shots; speeding away from the murderous face; and finally, images of a beautiful angel seconds before the crash. My brain went into overdrive for a few seconds with these images, before completely shutting down. For a second time, the image of that beautiful angel comforted me as my world faded to black.

A/N: Wow! Thanks for the support people! All of your reviews, alerts, and favorites prompted me to write the second chapter to this new story! Thanks again, and remember, any type of review is welcome, and the more you review the more I'm motivated!

Update: I was added to a community! That has never happened before… "Bella/Edward Hurt/Comfort Stories"- koolio!