Aren't I such an evil, horrible person, leaving you all with that cliffhanger? XD Poor Carlisle. As if that man doesn't suffer enough with having me as his number one fangirl.

Esme Platt

The blood. All I could keep my eyes on was the blood. The blood that spilled from the malignant wound on the side of Carlisle's head and seeped through his hair, the blood that stained my hands and legs as I pulled his head onto my lap. I slid off the light coat I had been wearing and pressed it over the wound, trying to stop a majority of the bleeding while I reached for my phone with trembling fingers. My voice shook and cracked as I spoke the the emergency operator on the other end, pressing harder on Carlisle's gruesome gash. Minutes dragged by like hours as I anxiously waited for help to arrive, all the while running my fingers through his blood-stained hair and murmuring soft words of comfort. With each passing moment, his body seemed to grow more still and his breathing rate gradually decreased with each breath he took. Letting my tear-filled eyes sweep the ground, I spotted an object only a few feet away on the dew-coated grass. Recognizing it as a shotgun, most likely the one that the criminal had used to harm my beloved, I reached over and grasped the tip in my hand, pulling it towards me. I turned it over a couple times, scanning over the model until my eyes set on small letters inscribed on the side: Charles Evenson.

My father.

##

"Carlisle? Oh my god, Carlisle! Is he dead?" I looked up at the sound of Erin's voice at the door as she strode into the small hospital room and made her way to the bedside.

"He's alive... barely," I replied softly, discreetly letting go of Carlisle's hand and placing my own in my lap.

She then set her gaze on me, "What are you doing here?"

"I was with him when he got injured. I'd like to stay with him to make sure that he's all right."

"That's what the doctors are for," she retorted.

"Yes. But I'm sure that he'd like to have a friend around, too. I can't imagine that he'd want to be alone during such a crucial time like this."

"Hence why I'm here. You're hereby relieved from your duties, Esme." She sneered my name and then set her eyes on Carlisle's still form. I sighed lightly and rested my gaze on her face, watching as she stared down at the unconscious, gauze-covered mess that was her best friend. There's no way I can leave him here like this, I thought, she has to know. I can live with the consequences. I'll have to.

Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I took in a deep breath before letting go of the secret I so desperately wished to keep.

"It's my responsibility as his significant other to stay with him while he's injured."

Erin slowly dragged her gaze away from Carlisle's body to stare at me, the harshness accompanying her glare feeling like daggers pinning themselves painfully into my being. "Excuse me?"

"What part didn't you understand?" I replied calmly, though, on the inside, I was raging with uncertainty and fear of what I had just revealed.

"You've been dating him? For how long?"

I gulped, "A few months or so."

"And why didn't I know about this?"

"We didn't want you be angry, Erin," I answered softly. "We thought it best to wait a little while then tell you all."

"Not telling me would make me more angry! Look, Carlisle's my best friend. He tells me everything that he doesn't tell the other two. See, you've got him wrapped so damn tight around your finger that he doesn't even pay a care to us, his real friends, anymore. How does that make you feel? Accomplished?"

"That's the reason that he didn't tell you or Clark. He does care about you. He doesn't want to drift away from his friends because he just so happens to be dating a person that they aren't too fond of... we were only waiting for the right time to tell you."

"So Ryan knows?"

"Yes."

Erin sighed exasperatedly and furiously ran a hand through her hair, "You've manipulated him, too. I would've thought that Ryan, of all people, would have told me that."

"Ryan is a good keeper of secrets. Carlisle knew that he wouldn't let it slip."

"That right there, Esme, proves that you shouldn't be with him. The fact that you're scared to tell others about your relationship shows that you shouldn't be in one," she spat venomously. "If there's anyone that he should be with, it's me. I've known him for a hell of a lot longer than you have. You just wait; soon enough, you'll become old news and he'll dump you, then come running to the one he really belongs with: me."

At that, the slow but steady beeping of the heart monitor suddenly increased pace. The unconscious form on the bed stirred ever so slightly as a soft whimper escaped his lips; in an attempt to calm him, I gently placed my hand over his, "I think it's best that you leave, Erin."

"Why should I be the one that has to leave?" she nearly hissed.

"Because he's obviously stressing over this. He needs rest, not strain." I tightened my grip on Carlisle's limp hand as the beeping became quicker and more prominent once again.

"Fine, then. But this isn't the last time you'll see me here." Erin huffed angrily and turned on her heel, striding out the door and slamming it behind her. My gaze rested on the wooden door for a few seconds afterward, before I turned back to the lethargic body that lay on the bed. Gently taking his hand between both of my own, I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb and whispered faint words of encouragement, hoping that my voice would be able to break the wall that had fallen over his senses. Eventually, his heart rate slowed to a normal pace and his breathing calmed. Still holding onto his hand, I leaned back on the plastic chair that I was seated in and let my eyes fall shut for a few short, peaceful moments. My relaxation was interrupted a few minutes later when a young nurse walked into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her.

"Is everything all right in here? I heard the monitor start speeding up," she inquired.

I sat up and nodded, "Yes, everything's fine. He just got a bit stressed out, but he's fine now."

"Sure. Let me give him some more pain medication, though. I can only imagine how much it must hurt to be shot in the head." The nurse cracked a light smile and inserted a small amount of clear liquid into the IV bag that hung from a metal post next to the bed. "Just press the call button if anything else happens," she said on an ending note before walking back out of the room and softly closing the door. I listened to the faint dripping sound of the IV as my eyes wandered over to stare at the thick layer of gauze that was wrapped tightly around Carlisle's head. A broken sigh escaped my mouth as my gaze fixed itself on the young boy's tranquil face. At least he's not in pain, I reassured myself, absentmindedly tightening my fingers around his.

"I'm so sorry, Carlisle," I murmured, fighting against the tears that threatened at the corners of my eyes. "It should be me laying on that bed right now with a bullet in my head. Not you." You're suffering because of me. The gunman – my own father – had most likely intended to have hit me in the first place. It just didn't make sense for him to hurt my boyfriend, a person he didn't even know. He'd always been out to get me; it was always me that he turned to when he needed someone to take his anger out on, always me that he chose to torment. If he found out that I had been lying to him about whatever subject it may be, it would be me that he'd be out to kill, not any other person involved in the situation.

That was just the thing.

He had been aiming the weapon at me; he had wanted to murder me with the bullet.

And Carlisle knew that. He was such an intelligent, gentle person, and those instincts took over, I'm sure, as soon as he caught sight of the morbid criminal with his peripheral vision. The protective instincts he possessed immediately pushed away any concern he had for his own welfare to keep another within safety... me.

He deserved so much better than life had given him. All the talents, the beneficial traits that he bore, were most definitely not useless, but just waiting to be given a chance to break through. He held himself so low on the ladder; he always put others first. He'd make sure that others, whether or not he knew or cared for them, were safe before he was. He was so... selfless.

That was the type of person who deserved love.

He had it, of course; he most definitely had love. He had close friends who loved and cared for him deeply; his mother obviously wasn't the most caring person in the world, but I'm sure that wherever his father was at this point, that he still loved his son with every ounce of his being.

Just like I was beginning to.

It elated me, knowing that I had been blessed with the entrance of this near perfect boy – no, nearly a man – into my life. After the things I had endured in the past couple of years, I had thoroughly convinced myself I would never know love again; not after the passing of my mother. Carlisle, this broken yet gorgeous person that lay on the bed before me, had turned that car around.

I gave his fingers another gentle squeeze as I laid my head lightly on his shoulder, before closing my eyes and sighing:

"I'm falling in love with you, Carlisle."