Carlisle Cullen's POV
The emergency department was a hive of activity, and despite the chaos, I maintained my composure as I navigated its corridors. Being the attending physician and head of department came with its share of responsibilities, but it also allowed me to use my abilities to make a significant difference. When Lucy, one of our dedicated nurses, approached my office with urgency, it immediately commanded my attention.
"Patient in exam room 3, Dr Cullen. Dr Rose was assigned, but he's running late. Could you take over?" Her voice was laced with concern. Lucy was the sort of colleague not to request something of me unless it was urgent.
"Of course, Lucy. I'll head over right away," I responded, setting aside the stack of papers I had been reviewing. As an experienced physician, I was used to the unpredictable nature of emergency care, but I was also acutely aware of the toll it took on the medical staff, especially the nurses who carried most of the burden and many of whom were fresh out of college.
Dr Joshua Rose was a promising resident, but the pressures of paediatrics could sometimes be overwhelming for him, and I took pleasure in being a mentor to him. I knew from my own experiences that the emotional weight of the job often led to sleepless nights and self-doubt.
As I made my way to exam room 3, my thoughts were focused on what awaited me. I had heard a bit about the case from Lucy—a young girl in distress, no next of kin, potentially suffering from more than just physical ailments.
I approached the door to exam room 3 with a sense of determination. A young girl, no older than nine or ten, was huddled on the examination table, sat in the dark. Her clothes were drenched and tattered, and her small frame was curled into a tight ball.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Cullen," I said softly as I stepped inside. I noticed the soft whimper that escaped her lips when I switched the overhead light on. Her fear was palpable, and I needed to approach her with utmost sensitivity.
"I'm sorry about the light," I said gently. "I didn't realize it would bother you. Let me fix that for you." I turned off one of the lights, leaving only a gentle glow. "Is that better?"
She gave a tentative nod, her eyes still shielded by her hands. I could see the fear and uncertainty in her posture, and it pained me to see her so distressed. "My name's Dr Cullen, but you can call me Carlisle. Can you tell me your name?"
There was a moment of silence before she slowly lowered her hands, peeking at me through a veil of fear. She didn't answer me.
"Well, it's nice to meet you." I said, offering her a warm smile. "I understand you're not feeling well. Can you tell me what hurts?"
Her small voice quivered as she spoke. "It's all hurting." Tears began to pool in her eyes. Her rapid, shallow breathing and the bluish tinge to her lips indicated a potentially serious condition.
I approached her carefully, pulling a stool up next to her and using my heightened senses to assess her condition. My vampire abilities allowed me to detect the subtle changes in her body that might not be immediately visible to the human eye; I could sense the increase in her heart rate, the uneven rhythm of her breathing, and the fluctuating levels of oxygen in her blood. These indicators helped me gauge the severity of her condition more accurately, without necessarily having to lay hands on her. It often served me well when working with children and anxious patients.
"Do you have any chest pain?" I asked, trying to understand the source of her discomfort. Her furrowed brow and puzzled expression suggested she was struggling to comprehend the question.
"Does it hurt when you breathe?" I clarified, placing my hand on my chest for reference. Her eyes focused on me, and she nodded hesitantly.
"Can I listen to your chest?" I asked, reaching for my stethoscope. I noticed her flinch at the sight of the stethoscope. It was clear she had never encountered one before.
With my enhanced hearing, I could detect the sounds of her heartbeat and the irregularities in her breathing even before placing a stethoscope on her. My equipment was an additional diagnostic tool that allowed me to assess for nuances, whilst also helped me keep up appearances. I held the stethoscope out to her, hoping to alleviate her fears. "Have you seen one of these before?" I asked gently. "It helps me listen to your heart. It's not scary, I promise. Would you like to try it in your ears first?"
She hesitated but eventually took the stethoscope from me, her small hands trembling. I could sense her curiosity peeking through her fear as she placed the earpieces in her ears. "You're doing great," I encouraged, offering her a reassuring smile. "Now you can hear your heartbeat. See? It's just a tool to help us understand what's going on."
I allowed her to sit with it in her ears for a couple of minutes. "What does your heartbeat sound like?" I asked with an encouraging smile.
"Like… a drum." She said with a slightly mischievous smile.
"Oh, wow. Can I have a listen?"
After a few moments, I took the stethoscope back and attempted to place it on her chest. She recoiled again, pushing me away with a gentle hand.
"You're doing really well, young one. Can I check the sound of your heart, and try to make that pain go away?" Her breathing was still laboured, and I needed to act quickly to address her condition.
Despite my encouragement, she curled up further, her sobs growing louder.
"Here, this might help," I said, reaching for the oxygen mask. I could sense her fear intensify as she recoiled, pushing me away again with a weak hand. I knew her resistance was a natural response to her anxiety, but I had to be firm in my approach. I was able to secure the mask over her face gently, resisting her pushes. I felt a pang of guilt for doing so.
"It's okay. It's just extra air to help you breathe better," I whispered. I noticed my colleague, Josh, stood outside the room and peeking through the window.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," I promised, my heart heavy as I stepped out of the room.
Josh looked dishevelled and concerned. "Dr. Cullen, I'm really sorry for the delay," he said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I heard you had to help out?"
"It's all right, Josh," I said, giving him a reassuring nod. "We've got a young lady, identity unknown, who is very anxious. I'd benefit from your paediatric expertise – I'm struggling to examine her."
Josh and I made our way back to exam room 3, where I could see the girl still curled up on the examination table. Her breathing was steadier now, thanks to the oxygen, but she still looked very apprehensive. I took a deep breath, preparing to re-enter the room.
"Hi sweetheart, I'm back," I said softly as I stepped inside. "This is Dr. Rose, and he's going to help us make sure you're feel better. Is that okay?"
Josh offered the girl a gentle smile, trying to convey his sincerity. "Hi, sweetie. I'm Dr Rose, but you can call me Josh. I'm here to help too. Can we work together to make you feel better?"
The girl nodded timidly, her eyes darting between us. Her trust was fragile, and we needed to be careful not to break it. I glanced at Josh, giving him a silent nod.
Josh pulled up a chair next to the table. "I'm going to have a little listen to your chest with this really cool gadget, called a stethoscope. It helps me hear what's going on inside, like a secret agent listening for clues."
The girls' eyes widened at the mention of a 'secret agent', and she looked at the stethoscope with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
"Before we start," Josh continued, "I want to show you how it works. It's like a magic listening device. Do you want to try it on me first?" He asked, his tone light and friendly. He held out the stethoscope to her, letting her touch it and get used to it.
The girls' fingers tentatively explored the stethoscope. She touched the earpieces, placing them in her ears then hesitantly placing the bell against Josh's chest where he pointed.
"You're a natural!" Josh said, with a smile.
"Now, it's my turn. I'll be just as gentle as you are, sweetheart." He reassured her. He slid the bell of the stethoscope up her shirt and rested it just above her heart. She flinched at the initial cold sensation and backed away from him slightly, the paper on the table beneath her audibly crinkling in the quiet room.
"Brr, I know it's cold!" Josh said, chuckling. "I'll be really quick, kiddo," he encouraged her, moving the bell around her chest and then placing it on her back.
The girls gaze followed Josh's face as he concentrated on listening.
"Take a deep breath in and out for me," Josh instructed gently, demonstrating with his own breath to show her what he meant. The girl complied, taking slow and steady breaths, intermittently coughing. Josh listened intently, occasionally glancing back down at her to ensure she was comfortable. He had a natural ability to make any examination feel less clinical.
Josh removed the stethoscope from the girls' chest, offering her a warm smile. "You did such a great job." He encouraged her. She remained quiet, her eyes wary and her small hands clutching at the hem her shirt.
Josh gave me a brief, concerned look before speaking up. "Carlisle, would you mind taking a listen too? I think it'd be good to get your perspective?"
I nodded, stepping forward. "Of course," I replied gently. "Sweetheart, is it alright if I listen to your chest now? I promise I'll be quick."
The girls' eyes flicked towards me, her body stiffening immediately. She pulled her top closer around her, her gaze narrowing with suspicion.
"I know this feels weird and new, but we want to make sure you're okay. I won't hurt you."
She hesitated, her small frame trembling slightly. After a long pause, she reluctantly nodded.
I placed the bell of the stethoscope on top of her clothing on her back so that it would feel as least invasive for her as possible. Her breathing was slightly laboured, and there was crackling which indicated fluid in her lungs – a sign of pneumonia. Her heart, though beating steadily, had a slight irregularity. She seemed to have settled a bit, and I used that as my way into getting a better sound of her heart.
Gently, I reached out to adjust her shirt to place the stethoscope on the bare skin of her chest. The moment my cool fingers brushed her skin, the girls' reaction was immediate and fierce. She lunged forward with her teeth bared, aiming for my hand. I quickly withdrew, my reflexes allowing me to pull back before she could bite me, but the shock in her eyes told me everything I needed to know – she was terrified. She had been pushed to her limit, and that was her desperate attempt to protect herself.
Josh immediately stepped in, his voice soothing but firm.
"Hey, hey. It's okay. You're safe. Carlisle isn't going to hurt you. He was just listening to your heart, kiddo."
We both exchanged glances and decided to take a slightly different approach.
"You must be quite cold. How about we get you a towel to dry your hair and find you some clean clothes?" I offered, knowing it was a long shot. From experience, I knew that children's needs were more about comfort and security than the immediate medical care adults might prioritize.
To my surprise, she looked up at me with a mix of hope and fatigue. "Please.". I glanced at Josh, hoping he would understand my silent cue to retrieve the clean clothes.
He returned shortly with a bundle of white towels, a navy blue set of scrubs, and university sweatshirt. I recognized the sweatshirt as his own; a thoughtful gesture from him.
"Thank you," I murmured to Josh as he stepped back to find the clothes. I unfolded a towel and held it out to the girl. Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't object, so I took that as a sign she was willing to accept my help.
"Still warm. He must have gotten them straight out of the tumble dryer," I commented as I sat on the edge of the examination table. "Let's get your hair dried first, okay?" I suggested.
She hesitated for a moment but then turned her back to me without protest. I could see the pain etched on her face as she moved. "Good girl. You're doing really well," I praised her softly, carefully wrapping the towel around her damp hair. As I gently dried her hair, she seemed to relax slightly, her eyelids fluttering open and closed.
Once I had dried her hair as best I could, I worked on detangling the knots. I managed to braid it into three sections, using the simple plaiting technique I had learned from helping Renesmee with her hair. I secured it with a hair tie, letting it fall neatly down her back all the way down to her tailbone.
"Thank you, mister," she whispered, slowly turning back around with a pained groan. I placed a hand on her shoulder for support
"I didn't mean to… you know, t-try to bite." She mumbled.
"I know, sweetheart. You were scared." I lifted the oxygen mask to her face, hoping she would accept the help.
We remained in quiet companionship until Josh returned with her clothes.
"Should we leave you for a few minutes so you can change, or would you like us to stay?" Josh asked, but the girl quickly shook her head, her eyes pleading.
"No... stay, stay. Please." she mumbled, looking from me to Josh. It seemed she wanted both of us nearby for comfort and security. We turned our backs to give her privacy, but I heard no movement from behind me.
"Mister? Can you help me... p-please?" she asked nervously. I turned back to see she hadn't moved. Gently, I supported her as she shifted to let her legs dangle from the edge of the table.
"Arms up," I whispered, trying to guide her as she reluctantly lifted them, her eyes brimming with tears. I quickly removed her damp and dirty top, trying to avoid touching her skin with my hands as much as possible.
What lay beneath her clothes was shocking. Her body was emaciated, with a layer of bruised skin stretched over protruding ribs. Her arms and belly bore fresh and old lacerations, and her elbow was clearly dislocated from the joint. The sight broke my heart, but I remained composed, carefully dressing her in the scrubs.
"You get to look like one of the doctors now, hey?" I smiled a little, as I rolled up the pant legs which were at least 6 inches too long on her. She nodded and gave me that same little mischievous smile.
"Why—" she began to ask but then hesitated and shook her head, stopping herself mid-sentence.
"No, no, go on," I encouraged, leaning forward slightly.
"W-why do you w-wear posh c-clothes?" she stammered timidly. Her question took me by surprise, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"Well," I said, leaning in as if sharing a secret, "one of the perks of being the head of the department is that I get to set my own dress code. I tell everyone I wear a suit to look professional, but between you and me, it's actually because the color of those scrubs really doesn't suit my skin tone," I explained with a conspiratorial whisper. Her eyes widened in amusement, and a giggle escaped her lips, followed by another groan. Any movement was clearly very painful for her.
"Josh, could I get 3mg of morphine, please?" I requested softly, gauging her weight and opting for the lower end of the dosage to ease her pain without over-sedating her.
After I finished dressing her, I maintained a silent vigil. I didn't need to know her backstory or her family situation; my job was to provide care and support. Her gaze, filled with tears and hopelessness, was heart-wrenching.
"Please, mister… don't tell the police." she begged, her voice trembling. I hesitated, unable to promise confidentiality.
"Okay… okay," I whispered, taking her small hands in mine and offering a reassuring squeeze. I felt a pang of guilt for not being entirely honest, but I needed her to trust us.
Josh returned with the morphine, keeping the needle hidden behind his back and passing it to me outside of her eyeline. If she had been scared off by a stethoscope, she would definitely be threatened by a needle.
"Hey, sweetheart," Josh murmured gently, lowering himself to her eye level with a warm, reassuring smile. "You know what feels really nice? When you finally get to scratch an itch, especially one right here." He lightly tapped his own upper arm, drawing her attention. "How about you close your eyes for a moment? You might feel a tiny scratch—like Carlisle's nail just brushing against your skin. Tell me if you feel it, okay?"
The girl hesitated, her eyes flickering with confusion, but Josh's calm demeanor seemed to win her over. Slowly, she closed her eyes, curiosity overtaking her wariness.
As soon as she did, I carefully administered the morphine into her upper arm. She let out a small whimper, instinctively trying to pull away, but I held her arm gently but firmly. She instinctively placed her hand over the injection site, rubbing it.
"There it is!" Josh exclaimed softly, as if confirming a harmless little scratch. He placed his hand on top of hers, offering comfort. "Did you feel that tiny tickle? Carlisle's nails must be extra sharp today."
"They're really sharp," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and mild betrayal. "I don't want any more scratches."
As the medication began to work, the tension gradually left her body, and she relaxed into the table, the earlier distress slowly fading away.
"Sweetheart, I know this has been a lot already, but I need to use another secret agent gadget with you. This one lets me see how strong and powerful your muscles are." He said, pulling the blood pressure cuff off the wall and holding it out to her. She gave a little nod of permission.
"This might feel a little snug, like a gentle hug. It's just going to quickly check how strong you are," Josh said, adjusting the cuff carefully on her arm. Despite being a paediatric size, it was still far too big, and he had to swap it for a smaller version due to her tiny stature.
"You'll hear a little pump and a little squeeze, okay?" he warned her, and she nodded. He started to inflate the cuff, whispering her praise throughout. He put his stethoscope in his ears, and rested the bell on the crease of her elbow.
"This is where I listen for clues again of how strong you are. Sorry, it's cold." He explained. I could tell by his expression that it wasn't the reading he was hoping for. He deflated the cuff and repositioned his stethoscope around his neck, giving me a discreet glance with his concern evident.
Josh pulled out a glucometer. "This is our special sugar checker. It's like a magic wand that tells us how sweet you are and how much energy you have for secret agent missions. Ready to help me with this?" The girl nodded, her earlier apprehension almost forgotten. He gently held her left hand in his, and pricked the side of her left index finger with a lancet. She flinched, but settled quickly, and he squeezed her blood onto the test strip. "Just a little magic sprinkle, and we'll know how sweet you are." He said with a wink. The result appeared on the screen, and Josh flashed it in my direction. She was unsurprisingly hypoglycemic.
"Carlisle's going to get you some juice to boost your energy. Do you prefer apple or orange?" He asked.
"Apple." She said shyly. I nodded and left the room to fetch her a plastic cup of apple juice. The girl accepted the drink from me, her hands trembling. She gulped it down within seconds. No doubt she was starving.
"Good girl." He praised her, reaching for her hand again to prick another finger after a few minutes. Still low, but climbing up slowly.
"I'm all done poking and prodding you for a bit, so would you like to wear this?" Josh asked, gesturing to the sweatshirt. Though we still had a battery of tests ahead, Josh was clearly biding his time, waiting for the morphine to take full effect before we continued.
The sweatshirt was far too big, the hem hanging down to her knees, but she didn't seem to mind. She snuggled into the thick fabric, a faint smile touching her lips, as though she had just been given the warmest, most comforting piece of clothing she had ever owned.
With gentle hands, I helped her lie back down on the examination table. The earlier pain that had wracked her small frame seemed to ebb away, her groans now mere whispers.
"I'm feeling s-sleepy," she stammered, her voice trembling with a trace of fear, as though sleep was something to be wary of.
"That's okay," Josh reassured her, his voice steady and calming. "You can go to sleep if you want. We're right here."
She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and newfound trust. Despite our earlier encounter, where she had tried to bite me out of sheer panic, I seemed to have become a figure of comfort to her. Maybe, in her eyes, Josh had taken on the role of the one to be wary of—after all, he had been the one doing most of the poking and prodding.
"Are you staying?" she asked, her small hand reaching out, clutching at the sleeve of my white coat with surprising strength.
"I'm staying," I confirmed, taking her hand in mine. "I'm staying right here, sweetheart." I repeated, my tone firm yet soothing, hoping to banish any lingering doubts.
Josh stepped closer, his tone gentle but clear. "Sweetheart, Dr. Cullen and I might need to do some more tests on you. Are you okay with that? They won't be painful. We just need to take some pictures of your bones and your lungs, and check if there are any germs in your body. Does that sound alright?"
Her grip on my coat tightened for a moment as she processed his words. In the absence of any next of kin, we were tasked with making decisions on her behalf, yet I knew how important it was to give her a sense of control in a situation where she likely felt very powerless.
"Pictures?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.
"That's right," I explained gently. "It's like taking a photo, but of the inside of your body. It'll help us make sure everything's okay."
Her eyes widened slightly at the thought, but she nodded slowly. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Thank you, sweetheart," I said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "You're very brave."
She offered a tiny nod, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep finally claimed her. The room fell into a hush, the only sound the soft rhythm of her breathing, still laboured and wheezy.
Josh and I exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between us. There was still much to be done, but for now, we had given her a small measure of peace. We'd let her sleep, gathering strength for whatever came next.
The tension in the room seemed to dissolve as I settled into a chair beside her, keeping watch as her breathing deepened into the steady cadence of sleep. The oversized hoodie enveloped her like a protective cocoon, a stark contrast to the cold sterility of the hospital room.
For the first time since she had been brought in, she looked at ease, safe in the knowledge that she was not alone. And for now, that was enough.
The door clicked shut as Josh quietly left the room, leaving me to keep vigil by her side. As I sat there, her small hand still clutching my coat even in sleep, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of responsibility. Whatever horrors she had faced to bring her here, we would do everything in our power to ensure they were left behind.