Ooopsie that was a long wait, huh? I got really busy, I guess. But I'm hoping to get a few new chapters revised over the next few weeks, and fleshed out. You're all amazing, and I hope you enjoy!

It was a ten minute drive to the hospital in Columbus, Esme sat quietly the entire time, not daring to speak again. She was too afraid that another... uncomfortable topic such as marriage would be brought up again.

Her father carried Esme inside and set her down carefully on one of the hard wooden chairs. The emergency room was empty apart from the two of them, as well a mother and her child, crying softly into her shoulder. She tried her best to focus any thoughts she had on something other than the horrible pain in her leg, or anywhere else it happened to be. Smiling, Esme thought about the grand adventures Tom, Lily and herself had gone on the past few days. Her father came and sat next to her, staring ahead of him. Esme began to doubt his claim that he wasn't angry, and frowned. "The doctor will be able to see you within the next ten minutes," he informed her finally. Silently she nodded and swung her good leg back and forth anxiously.

"I'm sorry," Esme said quickly, turning her head to glance at him. "I'm sorry I disappoint you.. That I'm not... what you expect of a girl my age,"

He sighed as he thought of what to say, still staring ahead of him. Esme had the urge to look away, but Esme had given herself at two years old. "You need to learn to be more responsible. You are practically a woman now. You are going to have to get married and have a family, like I said," Immediately she regretted speaking. Father-daughter talks had a history of being awkward and always seemed to be about the same thing. Marriage. Especially after she'd done something as foolish as this.

The next few minutes while they waited were uncomfortable. Esme wished she could walk, so she could leave, at least to cross the room. Neither of them said a word. They both knew it would make the situation more awkward than it was already. Relaxing, she allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts once again. Groaning internally she realized that those, too, focused on marriage. Why was she so opposed to it? She had no clue. Esme adored children. She always had. She knew how impossible it was to be a single mother. The judgement that would occur. Perhaps she should be a teacher. Then marriage wouldn't be necessary.

Momentarily she was pulled from her thoughts when a nurse entered the room, calling the woman with her now calm child into the back. Esme smiled a little as the little boy waved at her. His cheeks were flushed red, and his blonde curls were in disarray. Quickly he jumped off his mother's lap and ran over to her.

"You're real pretty," he whispered, jumping onto Esme's lap and wrapping his arms around her neck. She tried not to wince as his tiny foot collided with her hurt leg. "I'm Andrew. Mommy said I'm sick. You don't look sick, but I hope you feel better,"

"Andrew!" his mother called. To Esme she sounded completely mortified as she ran over and scooped Andrew into her arms. "I'm so sorry. He's not feeling well, I... I don't know what he's thinking,"

"That's all right." Esme shook her head. "He's very sweet," she added, then looked at Andrew. "I hope you feel better as well, Andrew," she smiled. He waved again as his mother carried him off. For a while, Esme almost expected her father to comment, but to her relief he said nothing.

Then another nurse came out, looking boredly around the room. "Esme Platt?" she called, looking at us.

"Right here," Richard stood up, lifting Esme into his arms again, walking toward the nurse.

Esme's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as they followed the nurse. Why did she look so bored? Weren't nurses supposed to be nice? This one certainly didn't look like she was. Maybe she was tired, though that didn't seem like an excuse to be so cold.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the bored-looking nurse led them into a white room with a thin curtain for a door. Esme sighed in relief as she was gently sat down on a hard surface again. She didn't pay much attention as the nurse went about, filling out various forms as she did a swift preliminary examination and checked Esme's pulse and blood pressure.

"A doctor will be in to see you soon," she said finally. "If you need anything while you're waiting, there are plenty of nurses who can help you," the nurse added, she didn't sound like she wanted the girl to need anything.

"Thank you," Esme replied, looking at the floor. Her cheeks bright red. She didn't risk saying anything else, she'd done enough to ruin today. Of course, the demeanor of the hospital staff wasn't helping to make anything better.

The small room remained silent for a while. Esme didn't bother to strike up another conversation, for fear that it would end up like the last one had. Richard didn't seem too keen on the idea, either. Of course, his daughter had different reasons than the uncomfortable silences that followed. It wasn't exactly that she was opposed to marriage. No, she wasn't at all. It was simply that she had other interests. Things she would like to do before being married. Things her parents would never approve of.

Esme's head shot up as the curtain opened. For a moment she expected to see the bored nurse again, but to her relief, she didn't. Instead, a young doctor stood, smiling. He was tall and blonde, his skin was incredibly pale and his teeth were the whitest she'd ever seen, but that isn't what caught her attention. No, it was his face. Not only did it seem so... so perfect that it couldn't possibly be real, there was such an amazing amount of compassion that was easily seen in the wide smile, and the softness of his face.

"Alright Miss. Platt. I'm Doctor Cullen, I'll be assisting you this evening." He began, looking down at the clipboard he was holding. "It says here that there is a possibility of a fracture in your leg is that correct?"

"Yes," Esme nodded.

"And it seems your face and arms are fairly scratched as well," he mused, gently turning Esme's cheek with his hand for closer inspection. "Well, it's no problem, we'll have you all patched up in no time,"

"Thank you," she replied, smiling a little. "Your hands are really cold," she noted. "That's strange, well, unless you've been sticking your hands in the snow. But that would be a little odd, since you're working,"

"Esme, don't," Richard sighed, exasperatedly.

"Sorry," Esme winced. "I'm too curious. Forgive me, Doctor Cullen,"

"No need to apologize," he shook his head. "And, to answer your question, I've got terrible circulation. Runs in the family," he added, grinning as if something he'd said was some inside joke. "And please, call me Carlisle, Doctor Cullen makes me feel, well, old,"

"And Miss Platt makes me feel like a child, so if I'm going to call you Carlisle, you call me Esme," the girl shrugged, ignoring the embarrassed groan that escaped from her father in the corner.

"It's a deal," Carlisle laughed. "On a more serious note, let's see what we can do about your leg, okay? I'm sure your father is anxious to get you home," he said, looking over at Robert momentarily, before his gaze shifted back to Esme.

For the next few minutes, he went about his work, and Esme watched. His fingers moved quickly, skillfully. If they hadn't been so freezing, she'd have been sure he wasn't even touching her leg. Occasionally he would press a little too hard, causing her to wince. He would politely apologize and continue working. After a while, he straightened up and began to speak.

"All right, Esme. I'm afraid you have indeed broken your leg. Though, it seems to be a small, very clean break, which will allow it to heal quickly and without trouble," Carlisle began. "Now. We're going to have to put a cast on it, and your mobility will be limited for about a month, perhaps more, but you'll be back on your feet soon enough," he explained. "I'll be back momentarily with the supplies," he added, exiting the room.

Esme sat silently letting her thoughts completely consume her while she awaited Carlisle's return. He was back within the minute, carrying a box to hold all that he needed. He set it next to the girl and began to work quickly and efficiently, setting the cast. This, it seemed, was the easy part. It barely hurt at all. "All right, Esme." he smiled and stood out of the crouch that he had been in while he'd been working, though it seemed to take no effort. It was a little surprising to Esme, considering she'd crouched like that before, and tight muscles seemed to come with it. Perhaps Carlisle was just used to crouching like that. "I believe that will do."

"Thank you Do- Carlisle," Esme smiled, pushing any doubt about the kind doctor from her mind.

"Now. We'd better let you and your father get home," he told her. "If you have any problems, don't hesitate to come back in, and we'll see what we can do. It will help if you stay fairly still until the cast is removed," Carlisle instructed, speaking more to Richard than to Esme.

"Thank you, Doctor," Richard nodded, walking over, he lifted Esme into his arms, gently. Though, she noted, his touch seemed rough in comparison to Carlisle's.

"It was my pleasure," Carlisle smiled at the two of them. Richard's face remained serious, though he nodded again; but Esme beamed. She couldn't seem to help herself, there was something so mysterious and compelling about the young doctor. "Thank you for your patience, Esme," Carlisle told her, before looking at Richard. "That's a wonderful girl you have there,"

"I know she is," Richard replied, smiling for the first time since Carlisle had come into the room.