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Esme and Carlisle: How the Love Story Began…

Resurrection

CPOV

The ambulance lurched and began its wailing trip to the hospital. I rode in the back with the medic. It was frustrating to know I could carry her to the ER faster. Over the sound of the blaring sirens, I isolated the thudding of her pulse. It was weak and thready. I could only imagine the amount of pain she was in, even though her expression revealed no hint of emotion. What I wouldn't give to have morphine on this damn vehicle! I felt then unfamiliar rush of panic coursing through me. I needed to take some sort of action…

"Help me apply tourniquets over the femoral arteries," I hastily instructed the medic.

I had to stop the flow of blood from her leg wounds if there was any chance of saving her once we arrived at the hospital. Over and over in my mind I saw her young face from a decade ago, so vibrant, full of hope, promise and life. How she had blushed so innocently in my presence and the innocent warm scent that radiated from her young blood.

The medic stole a glance at me, his eyes skeptical. I knew his experience told him there was no chance of saving someone with injuries this extensive. But I felt the need, an urgent need, to try.

Again my mind took me back to the vision of youthful Esme. What could have gone so wrong in her life to bring her to this final sacrificial act? I searched her face for answers. I needed the answers.

I wrapped the tourniquets around her upper legs quickly, wishing the medic would look away so I could move at my speed! Hang in there, Esme, I thought. You must give me answers…

Such a waste.

I had very strong feelings about suicide. With plenty of time to think about it over the centuries – to think back when I had made the same decision Esme made – only in my case, I made the decision several times over.

It was definitely the darkest time of my life – when I realized what I had become. The vilest, most hated of creatures walking God's earth. I was now part of the plague my father was dedicated to eradicating.

As a lad, I walked in his shadow and shared his cross, his purpose. But as I grew, I had doubts at times. Some of the same townspeople he accused of living a cursed life were people I had come into contact with everyday. I had walked with them, discussed God with, and even considered some friends.

In my heart, I believed many to be innocent.

But as a child, I thought like a child, and my father was so great in my eyes that I turned my head and closed my eyes to their suffering and fate.

Suddenly their vengeance was upon me and no amount of repentance on my part would remove the guilt I internalized nor the burning I suffered for failing to plead their innocence to my father.

I knew then he did not have divine sight. He was flawed like the rest of us, he just didn't realize it – nor did I. And in our ignorance, God had made me the vessel of punishment for my father's arrogance and misguidance. The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding*.

But in my act of fleeing from his sight, by denying myself comfort from his hands, I spared him in the end. I protected him from the lesson he was meant to learn. He need not consider destroying his son, I would destroy myself. The sacrificial lamb had become a lion, but I would sin no more.

Suicide was my only choice. As a sin against God, killing myself would condemn my soul. But it was the only option to end the pain. By this time, the emotional pain of what I had become far outweighed the physical pain of the transformation.

But the efforts to end my cursed existence were fruitless. No matter what method I tried, even though each successive attempt grew in violence and brutality, I could not complete the task. Only at my lowest point – charred, lonely, thirsty for sustenance – did I find salvation in the blood of an animal and my own mission to save others. Give life, not take.

But humans are so fragile, they often succeed in ending their life before they get the second chance. Before they can heal and go on to discover and fulfill their destiny.

I was given a second chance and look at what I have accomplished. How many lives have I saved? What would have become of those patients had I not been there when they needed an experienced physician?

I looked at Esme's bloody, dying form. How much has this world lost out on due to young people taking their lives? What contributions would they have made?

Then I thought of Edward. His death would have been such a waste. I know he will have much to offer this world. He will do good deeds. He will make a difference in someone's life. I was sure of that.

Esme. So young, so beautiful. What would she have to offer this world? Whose life would have been changed by her presence? I was saddened knowing her future would not be.

Something boiled inside of me, rolling with steeled me and I felt resolve growing from deep inside. I was not going to let her leave this world. God would not judge her by this final desperate act. She would fulfill her destiny.

My decision was made. Esme was going to get the second chance I had received. The second chance Edward had also received.

But for the details…

Glancing at the medic, I made a show of checking Esme's wrist for a pulse. By the grace of God, it was there I found a tattered hospital band. Thank you, Lord, I thought. I now had a place to start my investigation. She had a hospital medical record.

"Can I use that stethoscope?" I asked the medic as I met his eyes.

He handed it to me and I pressed it to her chest.

"Nothing," I shook my head and frowned for effect. "She's gone," I spoke the words flatly.

"You pronouncing her, doc?" the medic asked, knowing only a physician can declare someone dead.

"Yes, time of death 2332. Take her directly to the hospital morgue. I will complete all the paperwork."

The medic slid open the small window allowing him access to the driver. He instructed him to pull up to the morgue – the victim was dead. The sirens were shut off.

I covered Esme completely with a sheet as we finally arrived at the hospital.

The medics unloaded the gurney and rolled it into the morgue as I followed behind. Her breathing was so shallow, they would not detect it with their human eyesight. I took all her paperwork from them, knowing I would have to eliminate any paper trail. As I thanked them, I saw they were happy to be relieved of this call. They quickly moved her to one of the morgue tables and hurried back to their vehicle.

My plan was going without a hitch so far. I turned back to Esme with racing thoughts. Her heart was starting to fail, falling into fibrillation. There was too little blood remaining to perfuse her body. I ripped the sheet back from her face and whispered into her ear…

"Esme, you hold on. Fight a little longer…."

To my surprise, her eyes fluttered. For a moment those eyes, so blue, focused on my face. I saw a shock of recognition ripple in them. She remembered my face! To her, I would have looked no different than I did when I treated her a decade ago. Her brow furrowed.

"Angel," she murmured before closing her eyes again. She was letting go. Slipping away rapidly now…

With no more time to waste, I leaned in toward her neck. The arteries were weakly bounding under her smooth skin. As I closed in, I caught her scent. So sweet and fresh. The venom flowed in my mouth. I felt my pupils dilate…

Wait! Wait!

Can I do this? I began to question my control. I remembered how powerful the taste of Edward's blood had been. This time I was intoxicated by Esme's scent alone! What would happen when I tasted her blood?

I swallowed hard, my resolve wavering. All the years I had kept the monster caged, could this be my undoing?

Closing my eyes, I prayed for strength. I pictured her pure lovely face in my mind. Please, please, let me be able to stop….

There was no time for deliberation. Whether I was able to stop or not, Esme's heart would not continue much longer.

I stopped breathing to help me in my task. Almost hesitantly, slowly and gently, I bit into the soft, succulent flesh of her neck. Her body stiffened in response, but she didn't make a sound. I quickly pulled back and swallowed.

The essence of her sweeter than her scent and I indulged in licking my lips.

My eyes took in mangled extremities. Could venom heal these wounds? An idea bolted to my mind. I quickly untied and removed the tourniquets. Delivering the venom as close to the wounds would allow it to work quicker.

But this was going to take extra strength. Again I quit breathing and closed my eyes.

I bit down into her left thigh. My teeth pierced her flesh like it was made of fresh butter. Very sweet, delicious butter…

I was burning with the rush of her blood in my throat. Oh, God, please….

I leaned further over her body and drove my teeth into her right thigh. I never knew it was possible to feel such pain and pleasure at the same time. A very curious sensation…

But I had no time to contemplate my new feelings, desires. Having delivered the 'life-saving' venom, I quickly wrapped Esme's wounds in clean gauze. Then I secured her in the bloody sheets that surrounded her body. I lifted her carefully in my arms. The way her body easily conformed in my arms confirmed my other concern: her spine was broken.

I stole out of the morgue into the night with Esme held close. I would head for the cover of the woods to make my speedy journey home. I hope Edward is in the mood for company, I thought dryly.

My family was about to get bigger.

That is if Esme would decide to stay. I hoped she would.

But first there will be a lot to explain…to Edward and to Esme. Saving her had been the easy part, convincing her to live would be harder.

A/N: I just love Carlilse, though he is not perfect, he's damn close!

The gift of your review would make me very happy!

*Quote from the novel The Plague by Albert Camus, published in 1947, tells the story of medical workers finding solidarity in their labor as the Algerian city of Oran is swept by a plague epidemic. It asks a number of questions relating to the nature of destiny and the human condition. The novel is believed to be based on the cholera epidemic that killed a large percentage of Oran's population in 1849 following French colonization, but the novel is placed in the 1940s.