I know, I know. I've been bad. It's been way too long since the last chapter. I have no excuse. I have, however, been busy. I'm participating in the Countdown to Halloween II, sponsored by Breath of Twilight. Go to her profile and check it out. Lots of fun, a oneshot each day from a different author until Halloween and then a collaboration at the end from most of them. It's fun to try to guess which one belongs to whom. I've only figured out one, for sure, so far. Really fun! So, in addition to the oneshot I wrote, I also had a collaboration piece to write. Kept me a little too busy. But, it's done, and now my focus is back here. Where it needs to be.

I'm so glad you're here. Hope you enjoy! My love and thanks, as always, to the beautiful Breath of Twilight for polishing my ramblings, and making them presentable. And also to those who preread, prod, and hint along the way. Huge hugs and boobie gropes to all of you!

EPOV

Man! This rotation is gonna be rough.

I'm sure I'll have an opportunity to have some hands-on experiences in the area I want to specialize, but the nights are bound to be long. Not to mention not seeing Bella on a somewhat regular basis. She's become such an integral part of my life, not seeing her is going to be torture. At least I'll get to talk to her every day, even if we don't see each other.

The only person at the hospital that knows about Bella, or even that I have a girlfriend, is my dad. I'll be working this rotation with him. He's a renowned in the field of Emergency Medicine, and he's right here at the same hospital as I am. Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I know he's good, but he's my father, and my fellow residents are looking at me a little askance when it finally dawns on them that he is my father. I'm sure they're thinking I'll be cut some slack because I'm his son. What they don't realize is that he's bound to be harder on me than any of them for exactly that same reason.

Though much of our time will be spent treating emergency, but not traumatic, illnesses and injuries, and not that I wish anyone to be severely injured, but I do hope that we have a chance to see and experience the awesomeness that is trauma medicine.

My father's expertise with this sort of medicine is why he's been in such high demand and could take his pick of hospitals. He chose this one and hasn't even really entertained the idea of going anywhere else. I think it's because of the area, more than anything else. He loves Seattle and the Puget Sound. So, for most of my life, I've lived right here in the Seattle area. I know this hospital is one of the best teaching hospitals, and it keeps me close to my family, so it was a natural choice for me to do my residency here. The Cullen name might have had a little influence in getting me placed here, but I like to think my grades and scores helped just as much, if not more.

So it begins. Seven P.M. to seven A.M. No weekends off.

The ER has been surprisingly quiet the last few days, or should I say the last few nights. Some of the other residents are grousing about not seeing any action in here. I figure it'll happen when it happens. I'm not callous enough to want something to happen to someone, just so I can see the ER, or trauma unit, in action.

Argh! I hate not seeing Bella. I don't know how I'm going to last through this rotation. Thank fuck I have the Thanksgiving holiday to look forward to. Speaking of which, I need to get going on my shopping. I have a very special item to find. I don't want to wait until the last minute; it has to be exactly right. Maybe I'll talk to Dad about it. I'll bet he knows the best place to find it. He's forever giving Mom gifts. She always squeals, and they disappear for a while. I don't even want to think about what they're doing when they disappear.

My fellow residents are beginning to ease up on me, though, now that they see I'm not getting special treatment from Dad. In fact, just yesterday, one of them gave me a sympathetic pat on the back when Dad was giving me a ration of shit over something I didn't even do. I guess I'm gonna be held responsible for anything and everything that any of the residents do. Doesn't quite seem right, but that's Dad, Mr. Perfectionist, incarnate. And, since he's been giving me said ration for many, many years, it's just easier to hold me responsible. I already knew I was going to be held to a higher standard than the others, just by virtue of my being his son. But, for fuck's sake, Dad, I really don't need to be dressed down every time something is not exactly right. Especially if I didn't do it. Grin and bear it, that's what I have to do. I guess.

It's really quiet tonight, so the chief resident, Dr. Weber, has said that we can take turns getting a little shut eye. Who knew that it could be so draining just hanging around the ER, dealing with cases of flu, the occasional 'oops the knife slipped' stitches in fingers the poor kid that fell off the top bunk and broke his arm. All good practice and learning experiences, but that's been the worst of it, so far. Of course, if all hell breaks loose, all bets are off. I'm in the first group to get a much needed break, so I head to the on-call room and collapse onto the cot. I think I'm asleep before my head even hits the pillow.

The shrill beeping of my pager going off jolts me from my restless slumber. The cot is small with a lumpy mattress, and as a result, I have a kink in my neck that just doesn't want to go away. Still, it's better than no sleep at all. The beeper going off can mean only one thing. There must be an emergency coming into the trauma center.

With no time for musing, I jump out of the rack and head for the trauma unit, double time, rubbing my face and shaking my head to try and erase the remaining bit of fog in my brain. Have to look and be sharp. This is no time to be groggy.

Upon arriving in the trauma unit, I see most of the rest of the team already assembled. Even the Head of Trauma Medicine is here, my Dad. This must be really serious. A couple of my fellow residents arrive, close on my heels. Once we are all together, Dad begins briefing us on the trauma case on its way in.

"The patient was in a high speed automobile accident," he says grimly. "The medics are worried that they may not be able to stabilize the patient on the way, but felt it necessary to transport ASAP. I need a crash-cart manned and standing by. I don't want to be wasting any time if it's necessary.

"The medics have indicated there is significant trauma to the chest wall and it is unknown at this time whether there has been damage to the heart and/or lungs. The patient has also sustained head injuries and is floating in and out of consciousness.

"When the ambulance arrives, I want you all lined up awaiting orders. I'll be taking lead on this. Any questions?"

We all look at each other with wide eyes and somber expressions. I have no questions, in fact, it doesn't seem that anyone is questioning anything. It appears pretty cut-and-dry. We have a patient arriving momentarily that may or may not survive the night. It is up to us to make sure the patient has the best care possible to eliminate the latter possibility. So, Dr. Cullen, my dad, leads us to the ER doors to await our patient. The newest interns have taken up station with the crash-cart in the room that has been prepared.

Soon we hear the wailing of the siren as the ambulance rounds the corner on its way into The University of Washington Medical Center. It pulls up and within minutes all hell breaks loose. Dad is barking orders, and people are scrambling to follow them, me included. The patient is bagged. There is so much blood everywhere and the medic is running along side the gurney squeezing air into the patient's lungs, blocking me from getting a better view, as the patient is wheeled into the readied room.

As Dad is assessing the injuries and continuing to bark orders, I set about making sure all the tests are ordered and the nurses have all the instruments that might be needed handy. There's really not a lot I can do, at this point. I keep my ears open, listening carefully, trying to get some idea of what is actually going on with the patient. I did notice that the patient appeared to be in a uniform, what was left of it anyway, perhaps a police uniform. I know that our team will do its best no matter who it is, but I know that we would all hate to be a part of the team that lost one of Seattle's Finest.

Slowly, details are beginning to make their way out in an understandable manner. Evidently, the patient received a severe blunt trauma to the chest from the steering wheel of the car, the airbag having failed to inflate. Broken ribs and possible punctured lungs could be a result of that. Not to mention trauma to the heart muscle itself. A chest tube is ordered to be inserted to drain fluids that are building up in the chest cavity, hampering breathing. While it doesn't sound like the lungs have been punctured, that doesn't mean there might not still be some significant damage. That's going to be a kind of wait-and-see situation. At least until all the other injuries are stabilized enough to get some x-rays or an MRI.

Dr. Cullen orders the mobile x-ray unit brought in. When it arrives, all non-essential personnel leave the room. It's the first chance I get to really look at the patient. I've been hearing them referring to the patient as 'she'. So, our patient is female and possibly a police officer.

Turning around to look through the window, watching the procedures from afar, I finally see our patient.

Immediately, I bolt for the door. My heart clamps down painfully in my chest. My eyes are wide and must reflect the pain I'm feeling. The others hold me back, telling me I can't go in. I struggle against their arms and almost take a swing at one of them. What do they mean, I can't go in? How dare they tell me that? I have to get in there! I collapse to my knees; a pair of strong arms still encircling my waist. Gut-wrenching sobs spill from my mouth as I try to make them understand.

Please, our patient needs me. She's my life…

She's my . . . my. . . my Bella!

e/n Ack! It's here! Yes, we arrived at the prologue. Now, we'll just have to see how badly Bella is injured. I promise she lives. What is she going to have to endure? How long will she be hospitalized? Is she going to be able to go to Thanksgiving as planned? So many questions . . . LOL They will all be answered, and soon.

Thanks for reading. Do me a favor and let me know you were here. Even if it's a happy face or a frown, it lets me know you were here. K? Thanks!