AN: I hope you've all had a good Christmas! And I hope everyone has a great and creative new year.

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Chapter 25 - Paging Dr. Cullen

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"So, no headache?

"No."

"And no dizziness?"

"Negative. I'm not feeling even the slightest bit disoriented or light-headed."

"What about nausea?"

Bella closed her eyes briefly, but refrained from sighing in exasperation. "None at the moment."

"That's good, but you did feel somewhat queasy initially, though. Did you not?" Dr. Cullen guessed, quite correctly, stilling the movements of the flashlight in his hand.

Damn Emmett for being such a gossip! Not that Edward wouldn't have told on her anyway. His brother just beat him to it… Wasn't it a well known fact that shock can make anyone a little green around the gill?

Since Dr. Cullen seemed to be waiting for an answer to his question, she shrugged and said, "the initial shock made my stomach plunge, but I feel much better now."

As tiring as the questions and the probing were, she knew she should feel grateful to have avoided a trip to the ER. If there was one thing to be said about Edwards's father's home office, it would be that it was well-stocked in the medical supply department. And Dr. Carlisle Cullen himself had been nothing but professional and thorough. There was a palpable air of authority, even intimidation, about the man. He wore glasses now, but his piercing blue eyes still held the same intensity they had always held.

"Your pupils are equal and reactive," he finally concluded, putting the flashlight away. "Any pain in your neck? Can you move it freely?"

She answered his question by rolling her head from side to side with ease. "No pain."

"That's good. Just remember that even if the vehicle was moving very slowly and your neck feels fine right now, whiplash injuries can be totally unpredictable. The injury can occur in the moments directly following the crash, or it can creep up on you, slowly, several days afterwards."

"I appreciate your concern, but I feel fine, I really do. Besides, we didn't crash into anything head on; we just kind of slid, sideways, off the road. It seems as though the snow cushioned most of the impact."

Several hours had passed since the jeep had skidded, driver's side first, off the road and into the ditch. The first hour and a half had been filled with worrying and angst, but now, three hours later, she felt fairly certain that she was, in fact, perfectly fine. No signs of any stomach or back pains. No cramping or bleeding to speak of. She did have a moderately sized gash on her upper arm, but other than that she seemed to have escaped unscathed.

Carlisle hummed in a thoughtful manner. "Slewing broadside into a snowy ditch is usually safer than a head-on collision or a sideswipe with an approaching vehicle," he stated, leaning back in his chair. "Your head and neck appear to be fine, but if anything changes, don't hesitate to seek medical care asap, to get it on record for insurance reasons, if nothing else."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Your arm doesn't look too bad either, but I won't know for sure until I've taken a proper look." Pushing his chair over to the nearby desk, he retrieved a fresh pair of gloves, tweezers and some cotton swabs. "Now, this might sting a little, but I need to clean the cut and make sure there aren't any pieces of glass in there," he explained as broke the seal on a bottle of antiseptic.

"That's fine. I'm a big girl I can take it. Do what you have to do." Bella nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "If someone had to get injured, I'm glad it was me and not one of the kids."

"It could have been a lot worse," Dr, Cullen agreed, before he carefully began probing around the edges of the wound with his thumb. "The gash is shallow, but quite long. It's a clean cut, though, shouldn't scar too much. I think you'll be okay with some Steri-strips and a sterile dressing."

"No stitches?"

"No, that won't be necessary this time."

"See, I told you they were fussing over nothing. Emmett had no business carrying me up the stairs like some damn, damsel in distress and Edward could have kept his jacket to himself. I was no colder than anyone else. I bet he'll catch one heck of a cold now just because he couldn't keep his clothes on."

Dr. Cullen looked amused, but his voice betrayed nothing when he spoke. "From what I've heard, you fainted, not once, but twice. I'd say they had reasons to be worried."

Bella shook her head in a dismissive manner. "I fainted when I realized I'd cut my arm on the glass, climbing through the car window. I've always been a bit sensitive to the smell of blood, even more so after I cracked my head open a few months back. I'm sure Edward has told you all about that one, right?."

"Right, decked by an ashtray, was it?"

"In the hands of a very unstable woman, yes," she nodded. "You'd be surprised how often that happens in my line of work. Or maybe you wouldn't. Small town or not, I'm sure you've seen your fair share of crime related traumas in Forks over the years."

"Sadly, the trend is not a positive one," Carlisle agreed with a slight frown. "However, Miss Swan, don't think I don't recognise your attempt to side-track me here. Repeated fainting could indicate an internal bleeding which would require immediate medical attention."

"I sincerely doubt that's the case. You're the expert, obviously, but I'd say it was a delayed shock reaction. Nothing more, nothing less…"

"That struck twice?"

"Yes, that's exactly what happened."

A frown flickered over his face, like he knew there was more to it, but didn't question further. Instead he instructed her to hold her arm out, explaining that he was about to apply tissue adhesive.

He worked steadily, but quietly with the task at hand and the silence stretched out into unbearable length, straining Bella's somewhat frayed nerves.

"Fine," she finally relented. "I might as well tell you what happened that second time so that you can judge for yourself what you think caused it."

"I'm all ears… Just, keep that arm still while you're talking."

"Oh, sorry," she apologized as she realized she had lowered her arm. "So…Emmett and I were inspecting the car while Edward was trying to get a hold of a tow truck. We'd been out in the snow for maybe 20 minutes, and were all slightly wet and somewhat cold at that point. My arm had stopped bleeding and I was feeling mostly fine, until I rounded the vehicle and saw the two foot wide dent in the back door that is. It was on the right side, exactly where Anthony was supposed to be sitting and I guess I just…"she finished the sentence by making a tipping over motion with her hand.

"Wait, 'supposed to'? As in he wasn't sitting there?"

"I'm not sure whether it was dumb luck or cosmic intervention, but we moved him to the middle seat last minute. We figured he was less likely to get car sick if he were seated in the middle where he could see more of the road ahead."

Carlisle let out a silent 'oh' of understanding, but before he could form a proper response, he was interrupted by a sudden commotion in the form of a thundering rumble of footsteps making their way up the stairs, followed by a fast-approaching cacophony of voices bouncing off the walls of the hallway.

There might have been a knock, or two, on the door, but the door swung open almost instantly, leaving them no time to deny or allow any entry.

Not too surprisingly, Emmett was the one first to storm into the room, but he wasn't alone. Under each of his arms there was a toddler sized Cullen boy. He was carrying them like they were heavy timber logs, and he was a contestant in one of those bizarre strong-man competition they show late at night on ESPN.

"Move to the side, burn victim coming through! Hot cocoa accident!" he boomed. The way he bounced and jiggled his 'cargo' made it clear that it was not a real emergency, or at the very least not a pressing one.

Dr. Cullen had a puzzled look on his face, but was quick to catch on. "Oh my, a hot cocoa accident! Who's the patient?" he asked, pretending not to see the two little boys, dangling in front of him..

Anthony, who up to that point had been alternating between squirming like a worm and giving his uncle the stink eye, hid his face at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Elliott, on the other hand, giggled like a mad man.

"Is me, is Ellott, Papa C!" he exclaimed in a high pitched sing-song voice. "Got owie, need meducine!"

"Ohhhhh, what do you know, it's my favorite patient, " Carlisle laughed, feigning a look of utter surprise. "And I see you brought a friend. Will he be needing medicine, too?"

"Nooo," Elliott shook his head vigorously. "Me," he told his grandfather, all the while wriggling wildly to be set down.

"Hey, monkey boy, stop that or I'll drop you head first on the floor," Emmett warned, hoisting both boys higher in his arms. "A little help here would be nice, Edward. Or are you planning on hiding in the doorway all day?"

Bella whipped her head around and sure enough there he was; Edward, leaning against the doorframe. Eyeing him up and down, she noted that his hair was sticking in all directions, which gave him a somewhat comical appearance, but his facial expression was somber and his eyes were a bit red-rimmed. The general impression she got was that he looked about as exhausted as she felt. Exhaustion aside though, he still managed to pin a tight smile on his face, when realized everyone had turned to look at him.

"Uh-uh, you're on your own with this one," he informed his brother, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you not to go barging in here like that! And I was right, wasn't I? Scalpels, blood, gore… do I need to go on? I told you it was an exceptionally bad idea!"

Emmett response was immediate, "And I told YOU to stay in the kitchen and make sure mom wasn't too upset, but since you obviously didn't listen. I suggest you make yourself useful. I didn't anticipate that there would be B-L-O-O-D-Y scalpels in here for Christ sake!"

"She sliced her arm open on a broken car window, what did you expect? Hello kitty Band-Aids and rainbow colored cotton swabs?"

"That's enough," Carlisle interrupted. "Firstly, what's wrong with Esme? Why is she upset? And secondly, Edward, would you please help your brother with keeping the boys contained until I get this place tidied up and kiddy safe again."

"Fine," he pushed himself off the doorframe and came to stand beside his brother. "Mom just needed a moment to compose herself after meeting this charming little fellow, that's all," he explained, as he gathered his son into his arms. "She's fine, or she will be in a few minutes. She didn't want to lose it in front of the kids, so he sent us up here to wait for you. Speaking of which, wouldn't you rather have us wait outside while you finish up in here?"

"I figured the boys would need their medicine first."

Carlisle didn't make air quotes, but he didn't need to. It was obvious by the tone of his voice, and Elliott's intensely joyous reaction to it, that 'medicine' in this case equaled some kind of sugary treat.

"Third one from the top," he instructed, pointing at a drawer next to his desk.

"Nice," Emmett whistled appreciatively. "You got some heavy stuff in here. Should we give'em both the same treatment, doc?" he asked, pulling out two small bags of skittles from the drawer.

"I reckon we should. Can't play favorites now that there are two of them." Carlisle deadpanned, before breaking into a small smile as he watched Elliott nearly deck his father with an elbow, in his attempt to get a hold of the sweets.

"Ugh…. Not so fast buddy," Emmett grunted, putting an arm's length between his face and the offending elbow. "What's the magic word?"

"Fhanks?" Elliott suggested with a slight frown.

"I was going for 'please', but I suppose 'thanks' will do. Now, say it again, to your grandpa this time."

"Th-anks," Elliott repeated, almost getting the lisp under control this second time.

"You're welcome! Go ahead and take your dad down to the old playroom. I've set up a surprise for you that I think you'll like."

"Is a toy?"

"Yep, it's something you can play with."

"Is mine?"

"No, but it's something you and your cousin can borrow while you're here."

Elliott pouted a little, probably at the thought of having to share yet another toy, but he recovered quickly once his father set him down on the floor by the door and challenged the boy to race him downstairs.

"Later alligator," Emmett waved goodbye and then they were off in a whirlwind

"I suggest you follow them downstairs too, Edward. I know we have quite a few things to discuss, but I have an arm here that needs to be closed up first. I'll come find you in a little while."

"You are planning on giving them a proper check-up, aren't you?" Edward asked, lingering by the door.

"The boys? Yes, I'll be keeping an eye on them. They both seem fine, but I'll check for signs of concussion and internal injuries, just to make sure."

"And the stubborn one? She'll be fine too, right?"

Bella huffed in indignation. "Why don't you ask her yourself? I'm sitting right here, after all."

"I could, but I'm not sure you'd tell me the truth." he shot back, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Hey, now. I rarely ever lie. I thought we had already established that," she replied with forced calmness. "Now, since you're asking so nicely, I'll have you know that I didn't hit my head or injure other vital parts. The scratch on my arm, is just that, a scratch. Isn't that right Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"What about her blood pressure?" Edward asked, turning to his father.

"What about it?"

"Did she tell you, she has a history of high blood pressure?"

"Not in so many words, no, but if her blood pressure is high, I will find out about it soon enough. The medical term 'shock' refers to the organs and tissues of the body not receiving a sufficient flow of blood. It's standard procedure to measure blood pressure, when dealing with shock from an accident or trauma."

"Good, I fully exp-.." Edward began to say, but was interrupted by a small, but clear voice, declaring that the sweets were all gone.

"You're kidding me? You only just got them!" Edward shifted the boy from his hip, to hold him directly in front of him.

"Have more?" Anthony asked, batting his eyelashes, hopefully.

"Oh my, he's got the pout and the puppy dog eyes down to a T," Carlisle mused quietly, earning himself narrowed eyed glance from his son.

"Just stating an observation… If he's hungry, I'm sure Esme can make him a sandwich or something."

"She already did. He licked the jam off the bread and tossed the rest away. If he's hungry he's got to learn to eat what's on the table and be happy with that. I know he's skinny, but spoiling him rotten won't help in the long run. Everything can't be yummy and fun, all the time."

"No have jammies?"

"That's right, Anthony. No more jam for you."

"I say no jammies!"

"I heard you the first time, the answer is still, no more jam for you."

"She have," the boy said pointing at Bella. "…not me…"

"Ouch, did someone just get caught with the hand in the jam jar?" Edward chuckled, to which Bella just rolled her eyes.

"Actually, I think he might be talking about his pajama for some reason. Am I right? Do you want your jammies, Tony?"

"I say I no jammies," the boy repeated, gritting his teeth in frustration. ".. no seep…no bed…," he added pointing a tiny finger at the paper-covered, padded table that Bella was sitting on.

She finally clued in on what he was trying to say. "Ah, you're right, Tony! This is not a bed that you sleep in. and it's not bedtime yet, far from it," she assured him with a smile. "I'm not wearing my pajama. It's a blanket, see," she added, moving a jean clad leg out for under the cocoon of fleece she was wrapped in. "I have my regular clothes underneath. This is just to help me keep warm."

"No bed?" he asked again, apparently needing further clarification. "No bed, no seep?" Throwing his arms around his fathers neck he braved a look at his grandfather, as if he knew the 'bed' belonged to him.

"That's correct. It's not a proper bed, it's a padded table," Carlisle nodded, putting on a serious face, as if it was a question of great importance. "You can lay on it, but I wouldn't recommend sleeping on it for any lengthy period of time."

"I'll say," Bella couldn't help but blurt. "My bum went numb after only a few minutes. It's more like a medieval torture bench than a proper bed. Not comfy at all. No offence Dr. Cullen."

"None taken. It's not meant to be overly comfortable, as a doctor you don't want your patient falling asleep on you."

"Ah, yeah that makes sense. Did you hear that, Tony? You have nothing to worry about. We are not changing into our jammies anytime soon."

"Still not too fond of the whole settling-down-for-sleep thing, I take it?" Carlisle asked, chuckling.

"No, he detests it," Edward sighed, scrubbing his free hand through his already disheveled hair. "Looks like tonight will be particularly fun, seeing as he's already fighting it with teeth and claws."

"All the more reason why you should take him down to the playroom and let him roam free for a while."

"Are you throwing us out, dad?"

"Looks that way."

Edward 'hmmf'-ed and bounced the child on his arm a few times. "Let's get going, Anthony! Apparently we're not wanted 'round here anymore."

"Edward! One more thing… " his father called out, stopping him just as he was about to exit.

"Yes?"

"You're doing great… with the boy. He's everything Alice said he was. I believe adorable was the word she used."

"Ha, yeah he's adorable alright, especially when he's throwing his tantrums."

"It's all part of the charm," Carlisle said humorously. "If it's any consolation, he'll outgrow it eventually."

"Gee, thanks dad…"

"You're welcome son!"

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...

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Suppressing a smile Dr. Cullen watched the door shut close. "Sorry about the interruption, Ms. Swan. Shall we continue?"

"Sure. No, worries… That whole interaction was actually quite interesting. You got a soft spot for kids, Dr. Cullen? I would have never guessed."

"Why is that so surprising?" he asked throwing her a quizzical look.

"I don't know… I mean, I know you and Mrs. Cullen raised three of your own, but they were all teenagers by the time I first met them and you were quite stern with them if I remember correctly. Not a negative thing necessarily. Kids, especially teenagers, need discipline just like they need food, and water, and love."

"Very true. Grandkids are a whole different thing though. The good thing about grandkids is that you can spoil them as much as you like, for as long as you like, and when you're done you can send them home again. And, if your kids complain that you got them too wound up...well, you simply tell them it's payback for all of THEIR antics when THEY were little!"

"Yeah, I'm sure Edward will love hearing that… not!"

"Some lessons can only be learned the hard way," Dr. Cullen chuckled with a wistful smile.

"He's had quite a few of those lately, though, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, I do agree, which is why I want to help him in whatever way I can. In fact, I have some notes that I'd like to share with you."

"What kind of notes?"

"The kind that wouldn't hold up in court. Just some information I've obtained by using slightly more aggressive persuasion methods than the norm."

"Alright, gotha! You have those notes with you, here and now?"

"No, they are locked up in my safe. I thought we could look at them later. Preferably in the morning after a good night's sleep. If you're staying the night, that is?"

"I don't think I have a choice in the matter… "

"Well, there are certainly worse places to be stranded."

"True. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful and I do-…"

"Don't worry about it," he cut her off. "Just try and use the rest of the day to get some rest. You look like you need it. But first let me walk you down to the kitchen. I know Esme is dying to speak to you."

"Oh great," she groaned. "I mean, that sounds great," she hurried to correct herself.

Carlisle merely chuckled at her.