Carlisle kept glancing at the harsh nurse from the night before, fidgeting nervously as he sat on the edge of the bed. He had bruising on the side of his face this morning and he moved like everything hurt.
She glared at him, but didn't dare protest to anything the doctor was doing. The other women was kinder, full of warm smiles and encouragement, although I couldn't help the stab of jealousy that hit me when I realised her interest wasn't fully professional. She checked him over, her hands lingering over him longer than they should have.
He watched her carefully, leaning away slightly when she tried to touch him unnecessarily.
She chuckled at his reluctance, shaking her head. "Come on, now. I'm not hurting you, I'm just making sure you're okay." She held her hand against the side of his face.
I restrained from growling at her, hoping she could feel the waves of intense hatred I was sending her way. She was pretty too, I realised with regret, hoping Carlisle wouldn't think so. What is wrong with you? I scolded myself. She's a doctor; she's only doing her job.
"I'm fine," he told her curtly, pushing her hand away.
Her smile faded a little. "You will have to stay here another night, but after that you'll be free to go home, I guess…" She seemed regretful about the last part.
I glared at her back, hating every second she was touching him.
"Good," he smiled up at her.
She faltered, momentarily flustered.
"I could probably go today. I mean, it's not life threatening or anything," he continued, not seeming to notice her expression darken.
"What's got you so eager to leave us, Carlisle?" she asked politely. I noticed her using his first name, unlike any of the other staff here, and felt it must have been intentional. She moved slightly, putting herself between me and him.
I bit back a hiss.
"It's just not necessary, that's all."
She was smiling again. "Well, you cant leave if yet; we don't know if you can even stand up, let alone walk. Maybe another day of rest would do you good-"
She stopped talking when he slid onto the ground, abruptly standing. He winced a little as he put his weight on his bad leg but otherwise seemed okay. He took a few steps forward and would have appeared quite confident about it had I not caught the anxious expression on his face. "See? I can move fine."
She sighed. "Maybe, but you're still going to have to use crutches-"
He shook his head. "I cant. I have to go to work."
"No, he won't be going to work at all until he's completely better," I interrupted, raising my eyebrows at him.
"Esme-" he protested.
"No, Carlisle," I laughed. "You just got hit by a car and we all thought that you might die. There's no way I'm giving any opportunity to spend time with you, not after that. You'll be lucky if you're allowed to go back at all; I'm sure Edward and Alice will be pretty clingy as well."
He chuckled, trying not to smile but not being able to stop it. "God, I love you." He stepped forward again and kissed me.
Unable to help myself, I couldn't resist an opportunity to flaunt the fact that he was my Carlisle in front of the doctor. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
It worked. She cleared her throat but neither of us pulled away immediately. "You're obviously quite capable on your own. I'll sign the papers and you may leave as soon as you're ready, Mr Cullen," she told him, a sharp edge to her voice.
"Thank you." He smiled at her anyway. Once she was gone his arms were around me again. "I think I like jealous Esme."
"You caught that, did you?" I giggled.
"Of course." He kissed my forehead before pulling back. "Shall we be going?"
"Yes, but I think you need to slow down a bit," I frowned when he moved too quickly.
"I've that many different kinds of medication inside of me right now I'm not feeling anything really," he laughed. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."
"That's exactly why I'm worried. They're going to wear off, Carlisle, and then you'll be hurting again," I pleaded with him.
At the tone of my voice he immediately moved more carefully and even though I knew he was only humouring me, at least he was endangering himself anymore.

By the time we sat in the plane I could see Carlisle was exhausted, although he denied it and insisted he was okay every time I asked. I slid my fingers through his and squeezed his hand.
"…How's your head?" he asked, glancing up at me.
"It's fine. The same as it was ten minutes ago," I teased, reaching over and brushing his hair off his face.
He almost managed to smile at me.
"Come here, you." I wrapped my arms around him, being careful not to touch anywhere he was hurt.
He lent his head on my shoulder, craving the comfort.
"Is it wearing off, honey?" I asked him, gently pulling him closer to me.
He nodded hesitantly. "I'll live…"
"Try and get some sleep. We'll be home soon." I kissed the top of his head, rubbing my hand up and down his side.
He eventually did fall asleep and I must have too, because it was his movement that woke me up. He pulled away from me and sat bolt upright, biting down on his lip as the plane shuddered with turbulence. He cursed lowly under his breath before offering me an apologetic smile. The next wave of movement was stronger than the last, and a look of pain flashed across his face every time we hit a bump.
I couldn't do anything but hold his hand and pray that it would be over soon.
It wasn't long before he nervously pressed his fingers over his mouth, the mix of morphine and motion making him nauseous. He stood suddenly – faster than he should have – and tried to move toward the bathroom but a flight attendant stopped him.
"Sir, you need to stay in your seat," she instructed.
He looked at her pleadingly, pressing his hand over his mouth; the universal sign for 'I'm going to be sick'.
She quickly got out of the way.
He bolted.
When I tried to get up to follow him she shook her head at me. "There is no need for you to be up as well. Stay seated."
"But-" I protested, glancing behind her to see if I could see him.
"Airline policy. I'm sorry."
As she walked away I glared at her back, anxiously tapping my fingers against my leg. It seemed like an eternity before Carlisle came back. Before I could even open my mouth he interrupted me.
"Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" I repeated, amazed that that was what he was concerned about.
He nodded wearily. "You're really pale…"
"I'm pale," I challenged gently. "I think you need to look in a mirror." I grabbed his hand, pulling him toward me. "Sit down. You're as white as a sheet." I wrapped my arms around him, feeling a lot happier once he was close to me again.
He relaxed into me and I rubbed my hand up and down his back.
"I'm sorry, honey," I told him. "She wouldn't let me go with you."
He kissed the base of my neck. "It's fine, Esme. To be honest I'm kind of glad…"
"Did it hurt too much? I mean since you're all broken and everything?" I squeezed him a little, desperately wishing I could hug him tightly but knowing it would be agony if I did.
He shook his head, but I suspected otherwise.
"I never got to thank you, either," I murmured as he wrapped his arms around me.
"For what?" he mumbled, his tiredness coming through in his voice.
"For saving me, silly. If it wasn't for you I could be dead right now. You could be dead right now."
"…It was for selfish reasons really…If I didn't have you then I'd have nothing to live for…seeing you hurt would hurt more than being hurt myself, so…" He became quieter toward the end.
"Selfish indeed," I chided, shaking my head at him. "You saved me. That's that." I kissed him, never wanting to let him out of my sight ever again.
He shifted uncomfortably as another jolt went through the plane.
"Let's just get you home, sweetie."