Pinned but Fluttering

Outtake from Chapter 23, Part 1: Carlisle's POV

Outtake from Chapter 23 in Carlisle’s POV, Part 1

This outtake, divided into two parts, is entirely in Carlisle's point-of-view, encompassing Bella's arrival at the hospital, her treatment, and the meeting with the wolf pack. This part of the story must be told before the coming events in Pinned but Fluttering occur. Thanks for reading, and please enjoy!!!

Also, I am not a doctor so am taking wild guesses with the medical information just from watching every season of ER. So please forgive any medical mistakes contained herein. ;)

Disclaimer: The Twilight Universe belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This story does not intend to infringe upon any copyrighted material and is written for mere enjoyment, not for profit. The remainder of the story belongs to Cassandra Lowery and should not be copied or reproduced without express written consent.

Carlisle’s POV

“There's a van pulled up in the ambulance bay,” one of the orderlies called.

It was a rather cold January night at my place of work, Forks Community Hospital. Despite the possible emergency in the ambulance bay, the orderly, a nice young man named Derek, and I pulled on jackets before jogging out to the rather dilapidated van parked sideways, the side door just sliding open as we approached. Not that I needed the jacket as Derek did, but appearances were important, especially when working in such close proximity to humans as I did.

Immediately upon the opening of the van door, a pungent stench, almost as repulsive and wretched as that of rotting meat, filled my head. I took a deep breath, grimacing at the scent, then held my breath. Usually my extraordinary sense of smell aided greatly in diagnostics, but when on rare occasions when an odor this acrid and disgusting hit my nose, I took in just enough air to allow for speech, and then refused to breathe further.

The dark-skinned driver of the van had to be no more than eighteen or nineteen, and he glared at me with unveiled loathing. I ignored him, moving instead to the open side door where another man, slightly older than the driver but with the same odd shade of skin, held a small, trembling form in his lap.

I gathered from the long, dark hair draped over his arm that the person he held was a young girl. As I drew up beside him, he, too, scowled at me and seemed to hold his breath, too. But I was far too concerned by our new patient to puzzle over these strange young men and their apparent antipathy toward me.

Still holding my breath, I reached one hand toward the girl's face, cupping her cheek. Her face was completely covered with partially-dried blood from a laceration along her hairline, and one eye was swollen shut. As I touched her, the coolness of her skin concerned me; she was obviously going into shock, if she wasn't already there.

The young man holding her was saturated in her blood, and he, too, was shaking. His face was set in supreme restraint.

I hurried to assure him, “Sir, just hang on, and we'll help her.” Tensing, the man started to slide from the van, trying to hand the girl off to me.

“Here, take her. We have to go,” he said through his clenched jaw. He tensed further as he moved to give the girl to me. As he did so, I detected further movement inside the van. A petite girl with the same dark skin and wide dark eyes stared at me, the emotion of fear quite obvious in her features which were lit by the outdoor floodlights around the ambulance bay. Apparently she had been the victim of some kind of attack a year or two before; one side of her face was marred by three deep scars from her hairline to her chin, pulling down the corner of one of her expressive eyes and causing her mouth to remain in a permanent frown.