Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters in it. I am not making any profit off of this. It is for fun.

Authors Note: So, basically, this is when Carlisle changes Esme. I hope you enjoy. Please review! xo (And yes, I know I should be updating my other stories. Sorry.)

Her forehead glistened with sweat, reflecting the lights overhead. The plump flesh of her lips parted slightly, the movement hardly noticeable. Her back arched as her eye-brows furrowed, interrupting the smoothness of her forehead. She groaned, otherwise motionless, a fact that bothered him more than it should. It always hurt losing a patient, and he always wanted to save them. But now he was considering an option that should have not even crossed his mind.

Carlisle hesitantly reached forward, brushing back the stray curls that framed her feminine visage. He pulled his hand back slightly, his pasty complexion seeming even lighter due to the lights overhead. They had been used so they could see her injuries and properly heal them, but it was a lost cause. Scrapes and bruises covered numerous parts of her body, but that was not the worst part. The worst part was that she was dying.

Far away, birds chirped, their soft murmurings interrupting the silence he had grown fond of. He was able to pick up their sound despite the expanse between their entities and his own, and this bothered him slightly. How could they be so happy when such an innocent creature such as herself was suffering? Esme was her name, he recalled. He remembered when she had hurt her leg ten years ago — it was hard to believe it had been that long.

He remembered the way she had blushed and the glances she had sent him when she thought he wasn't looking. She had been so sweet, so innocent. What had become of her? What had driven her to jump off of that cliff? There was no way she could have fallen. Everyone knew the cliff was there, and it was easy to see from a distance. There was no other scent around that area, so it was also a impossibility someone had pushed her.

He extended his hand once more to touch her soft locks, snatching a few blades of grass that had been caught in her dark tresses. She had limited time left, and it hurt him to see someone who had once been so happy in so much pain. His bones ached, grief leaking into the taut muscles of his thin frame. He wanted to be able to save her from death, and yet he knew it was inevitable.

Her face had lost its natural color, all life having been drained from her face when she had fallen. The atmosphere made an abrupt shift, the usually comforting air of the hospital suddenly becoming too thick to breathe. The happy, care free girl he had once met at the tender age of sixteen was really going to die, due to reasons he would never know. His still, un-beating heart sank within his chest, diaphragm clenching in response to the overwhelming sadness that just recently triumphed over him.

Rain gently poured down from the sky, pelting against the ground slowly, almost in beat with her slow breathing. He closed his eyes, as if it would block out the sound and stop the thoughts of her death from crossing his mind. Sorrow griped at his spine — how was it fair he would live forever, and yet she would have to die at such a young age? Guilt crept into every crevice of his body as his jaw clenched; struggling to maintain his control, to prevent from leaning over and sinking his teeth into her wrist.

"It will be okay," he murmured to her as if it would comfort her. She did not even twitch in response, and he understood the fact she could not hear him. "Esme, Esme, please, listen to me. You will be okay, just don't give up. Please, Esme." His throat closed, not allowing anymore words to come from it. He took a deep breath, the rain falling at a steady pace. It had quickened, no longer as slow as her breathing. The usually comforting smell did nothing to soothe his worries, and he found he wished the rain would just stop. The want to force to do it besieged him, and yet he knew he could not. He had his limitations.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, the brown orbs that he had not seen in ten years showing their self to him. They did not sparkle with life as they once did; no, they were sad and detached the change in her so abrupt and painstakingly obvious he found he wanted to look away. And yet, he couldn't. The speed of the rain picked up, thunder clapping from above as if it sensed the change in his thoughts.

Whoever, or whatever had made her this sad, had taken away her life. While he could not give her that back, he could give her a new one. That was the thought that ran in his mind as he raised her wrist to his mouth and bit.

Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed. I always thought it would be interesting to write this, and decided to give it a go. I have always loved Carlisle and Esme's relationship — I feel like there is just so much to it that we, the readers, don't always see.