Minerva was a good driver. Given that she'd been driving since they retired the horse, it'd be laughable if she wasn't better than average. In all her years on the road, she had never been in an accident. It was miraculous, it was overdue.
On her best nights, Minerva had trouble sleeping. There was too much to ruminate on to sleep soundly. She often pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion before she could finally succumb and get a decent night's sleep. With how tired she was, she shouldn't have been on the road. Steering her little blue car through the intersection, she had the green.
It happened too fast for any defensive manoeuvre to save her. First it was all noise, just sounds of metal as the other vehicle clipped front fender of hers going well over the speed limit. The little fiat was smaller than the average car, so the force of the car slamming into her sent the vehicle skidding before it began to roll. Curse after curse left her lips, no steering would let her find her bearings.
It happened so fast, adrenaline pumping through her veins as the windshield shattered and the vehicle crumpled. It was the third roll that made her face collide with the steering wheel. Everything didn't go black right away, just foggy as blood dripped into her vision. Dread overpowered all the pain as the car finally skidded to a stop, halting upside down so the blood from her face. "Fuck." She breathed out, the sounds of sirens meeting her ears before she finally lost consciousness and it all slipped away.
It was quite a while before he saw her again. A month at least and under the worst absolute worst possible circumstances Carlisle could have expected. It was late, about four AM when the call came in about a horrible car accident. The ambulances flew out, one car had basically taken the top off the other. The driver was lucky to be alive.
He smelled her before he saw her. The intoxicating scent was suffocating him by the time the gurney came around the corner. At the sight of her, his heart leapt into his throat and his thirst was nearly forgotten. Nearly.
Her perfect face was bleeding, badly, sliced by shards of glass and some trauma to her forehead. Her clothes were bloody, her ankle twisted the wrong way. It took him a second to remember himself as the paramedic told him what they'd assessed on the way over. His focus was shot. Between the worry for this woman he barely knew and the growing, abhorrent desire to lick the blood off her face, he was in no position to help her.
"Her neck should be broken." The paramedic said, carefully unvelcroing the neck brace, "She's lucky to be alive." His doctor instincts took over, he worked on muscle memory and desperation alone. Don't die. He pleaded internally. The wonder hit him then when she was stable and hooked up to a heart monitor which read her pulse as painfully weak.
What if she wasn't going to make it?
If she was to die, would he change her on the hope that she was his soulmate alone? What if she wasn't? What if she hated him for it? The question was on his mind when her eyes opened. It made no sense for her to be conscious after a trauma like that, with all the painkillers in her bloodstream- tainting that perfect scent. It made it more bearable to be in the room, at least. Even if he despised the way it tainted her scent, it took some of the pressure off his chest.
"Carlisle?" Her voice was feeble, cracking.
"Don't move." He commanded when she shifted moving to the head of the bed, "You're going to be okay." When he looked into her tired grey eyes, there was panic. "It's okay."
"I need to get out of here." Minerva breathed, trying again to move. He put his hands on her shoulders to stop her. She struggled hopelessly before resigning herself to his strength.
"You're safe." He tells her quietly, "you're at the hospital, nothing-"
"I can't be at the hospital." She grimaced when she moved her head in spite of the neck brace, halting the movement instantly. "I can't be here, I can't be.." he could see her consciousness slipping from her, the urgency in her voice made his heart ache. He wanted to ask, to know exactly what the issue was but she was out again before he could.
Every time Carlisle had a moment, he checked in on her. The blood bothered him but he stomached it as best he could, she was more important than his thirst. It was a couple hours after she came in when he first started to notice it. The little cuts on her face didn't marr her features like they had before, far less severe than they had been an hour ago. The least of them were only memorialized by small white scars as if they'd healed over long ago. He was sure they weren't there before. Carlisle was certain of it. He would have noticed little scars last time they'd met. Her skin worried him too, normally an olive tone, had taken a green undertone.
He came back again when his shift was done, intent on sitting with her until she woke up— which might have been hours away— to find her awake. Awake and trying to pry the IV out of her arm.
"Hey, hey, don't do that." Carlisle said quickly, rushing to her side to stop her hands. They were burning hot, even against his cold skin.
"I have to get out of here." She said, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I-I can't be here, Carlisle. I need to get out of here." Her eyes were wide, petrified with urgency.
"Why?" He asked gently, sinking into the chair at the bedside, hands still resting over hers. The fever was baffling him.
"I can't be in the hospital." She squeezed his hand, a sensation which made him tense. The irregular beat of her heart wasn't lost on him.
"You're not well." Carlisle insisted, "Your ankle is broken, you have a concussion. Your heart is—"
"Abnormal." She finished his sentence, eyes boring into his with a sudden intensity. "That's why I need to go. I-I-" her cracked lips pressed firmly together, as if she's struggling to get the words out, "I just need you to trust me. Please, Carlisle."
Author's Note, 1 year later: I fucking skipped chapter six, I'm going to be losing my mind over this for the rest of my life but I'm literally writing chapter 65 right now. What an absolutely colossal L
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la belle dame sans merci | carlisle cullen
Fanfiction. ୨⎯ She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna-dew, And sure in language strange she said- 'I love thee true'. ⎯୧ Magic exists in every corner of the world, a long lost art w...
