A/N: Yes, I did delete the whole story since I didn't know you could replace/update chapters XD as you can tell, I'm new to writing stories on this site. I do want to make some minor changes to the story and I hope to make the chapters a bit longer and more descriptive. Nevertheless, I'm keeping my author's note below in case you are completely new to my story. If you are a returner from before I deleted it, welcome back lol

Hello readers! First of all, thank you for giving my story a chance. Also, just a warning, I am VERY NEW to the world of Twilight. I know the all the main characters and the basics and all that stuff, but I have yet to read any of the books, so if there are ever certain details in my story that don't match up with details in the books/movies, I apologize! I plan on reading the books soon :p

But for now, please enjoy this story. I'd appreciate favs, follows, or any reviews on how you like the story or suggestions for improvements! Thank you!

"Come on, move."

Stanley Nowak put his hand to the button that controlled the air horn of the ambulance and pressed it repeatedly, shaking his head as the cars in front of him slowly pulled to the side.

"I swear; it's like people have never seen an ambulance nowadays," he muttered and finally lifted his finger from the button as John, his paramedic partner began laughing.

"'Nowadays?' Kid, what do you know about 'nowadays?' This is your first year, you ain't got nothing to compare it to," he said in between chuckles. Stanley scoffed back and cracked a sheepish smile.

"But am I wrong?" He asked, sticking his hand out, motioning to the road in front of him as he continued down the road.

"No," John said with a tilt of the head, but chuckled again. "Anyways, you worry too much."

"That's part of the job."

"Wrong," John shook his head. "The job, Stan, is to help people. We leave the worrying to the patients themselves."

"Well, then you're too…" Stanley replied, thinking of a word. He tapped the steering wheel and pointed to John once he got one. "Relaxed. You're too relaxed, John."

"Or you're too anxious," John answered and Stanley gave another slightly embarrassed smile and nod.


Stanley would always get a bit nervous when John teased him. They'd been working together for a few months now, almost four, but this was Stanley's first year. Fresh out of high school and training and here he was, working with a 15 year paramedic veteran who was way too intimidating to Stanley, despite John being one of the nicest people Stanley knew.

"Eh, it's ok," John said, waving it off. "I was like you when I was a rookie. Get the shakes and nerves before every call, on the way there too." John laughed and pointed to Stanley's arm. "Like you're doing now."

Stanley suddenly became aware of his arm shaking due to nerves and quickly gripped the wheel tighter in an attempt to stop it, and forced a laugh as he did so. "I can't help it. I always think something is gonna go wrong during every call."

"Let me tell you something, kid," John said and Stanley made a left turn. He didn't particularly like being called 'kid' by John, but knew it was a term of endearment, in a way. Like John was Stanley's mentor or older brother. "Worked as an EMT and Paramedic for nearly 15 years and only…" John paused, counting his fingers and thinking. "Only seen 45 or 46 people kick the bucket. That's, like, only about three a year."

"That's it?" Stanley asked after a brief moment of hesitation, mildly surprised by the low number over the span of John's 15 years. John nodded and Stanley purses his lips, nodding back slowly. "That's actually not bad."

"Yeah, not bad, see? That's what I'm saying. You don't need to worry," John said, but sighed a bit. "That's easier said than done, though. Especially when you run into fires, I tell ya."

"See, that's not too bad for me," Stanley said and John let out a surprised breath.


"Yeah," Stanley said with a nod. "Like, the call we had last week when I was with Truck 22, I just ran into the he building on instinct, y'know? Nothing would've stopped me."

"Hmph," John scoffed and lightly tapped Stanley's arm with the back of his hand. "Sounds like you should be a full-time firefighter. Not half-n-half with paramedic duties."

"I like variety, blood and fire," Stanley morbidly joked and John laughed.

"Whatever you say, man. I like one thing, and I stick with it," John said and nodded to himself. That was true, Stanley knew. He was like John, both of them had gotten jobs at the Milwaukee Fire Department, House 7, just a few months after they graduated high school. John was young for being a 15 year veteran at something, as he was only 33 or 34, Stanley wasn't entirely sure. He was sure that he wanted to be just like John, though. A veteran paramedic, which wasn't very common. Stanley felt like he belonged in this occupation, and his life couldn't have been any more perfect.

A decent apartment at 18 and his high school sweetheart, Hailey, by his side, along with his dream job was all he needed to be happy and fulfilled.

Well, high school sweetheart was a bit of an overestimate, Stanley thought. They had only been together for two years, but Stanley knew he was deeply in love and that she was the one he would be with forever.

No matter what.

"Here we go," John said quietly as Stanley pulled into the alley they were called to, breaking Stanley's thoughts up. A man was down from unknown causes and Stanley scanned the scene carefully, looking for any nearby witnesses. All he saw, however, was the silhouette of a person lying near a puddle of dirty water. John got out of the ambulance before Stanley even put it in park and John quickly headed to the back for the gurney. Stanley put the vehicle in park and shut off the sirens, but allowed the lights to keep flashing. Stanley hopped out of the ambulance and helped John grab the gurney and other equipment, and as he did so, he continued to scan the area for witnesses, but still saw no one.

"I got all this, grab the gear bag and check on the victim," John said and Stanley nodded quickly, grabbing the bag and jogging over to the victim. He knelt down and saw the man barely conscious, a blood stain on his stomach.

"Hey, buddy," Stanley said in a chirpy voice, getting the victim's attention. He quickly unbuttoned the man's shirt and saw a gunshot wound. "GSW!" he shouted back to John, before turning his attention back to the victim. "What's your name, bud?"

"Pete...Peter…" the man said in a faint voice.

"Peter, my name is Stanley and my friend over there is John, we're here to help, ok?" Stanley said, taking Peter's blood pressure as he continued to talk. "How old are you?"

"32…" Peter responded in the same fading tone.

"32? You look about 22 to me, man," Stanley joked nervously, as that was what John would do with a patient. A joke to keep the victim aware and attentive.

Stanley checked Peter's blood pressure, which was extremely low, and immediately became worried of internal bleeding. "John," Stanley said as he applied the sterile piece of cloth to Peter's wound. John rolled the gurney over and also knelt down to help Stanley.

"This is Ambulance 31 from Fire House 7, we got a GSW victim on Iris Street, can you send a few uniforms down here? Shooter isn't nearby but this is a crime scene," John said into his radio as he checked Peter's pulse.

"Copy that, ETA is about thirty minutes," the dispatcher responded, and John went back to focusing his full attention on Peter.

"Thirty minutes?" John asked Stanley with surprise, but Stanley just gave a shrug, more focused on helping Peter right now.

"You know who shot you, Peter?" Stanley asked, but he looked to Peter and saw his eyes roll to the back of his head while his eyelids fluttered.

"Peter?" John asked, already reaching for the defibrillator. "Peter?" John repeated, and was about to charge up the machine, but his eyes focused on something just behind Stanley.

"John?" Stanley asked, and was about to ask a follow up question, but felt a sharp pain enter his side. He felt something physically enter his body, then it was removed, and Stanley yelled out in pain. In another quick motion, Stanley saw John begin to stand up, but a gunshot to the head caused John to fly backwards.

"John!" Stanley shouted, gritting his teeth in pain from the wound he received, which he perceived as a stab wound. Stanley then felt a blow to the back of his head that pushed him to the ground, landing him directly in the puddle of murky water. He heard another shot and saw a bullet enter Peter's chest.

"Come on, we gotta get out of here!" Stanley heard an unfamiliar voice say, and as he fought to groan out again in pain, he saw two figures run out of the alley.

There was a brief moment in where Stanley could see their faces reflect off the dim streetlight. Stanley took half a second to swear to himself that, if he were to survive this, he would track down those men and deliver justice. Not only did they attack him, but John and Peter as well.

Stanley's eyes flickered to the other limp body next to him.


Stanley forced himself up and tried his best to ignore the burning pain in his side and the hot pain behind his head. He crawled to Peter and put two fingers to his neck, feeling no pulse. Immediately, he stumbled over to John and put the same two fingers to his neck, but again, felt no pulse.

"No…" Stanley muttered, his throat going tight. "John! John!" Stanley quickly fumbled for his radio, fighting back tears, but became still when he heard voices at the end of the alley. He saw three figures coming into the alley, but none of their physique's matched the two attackers. At least two of the three figures were women, Stanley could tell, and the last one was not as tall as the two attackers. However, Stanley still reached for his radio. The three figures got closer to Stanley and he began backing up, not trusting anyone at the moment and focused on getting help from the dispatcher.

"This is him, right?" The man of the three figures asked the shortest one. Stanley finally looked up to them and could faintly see their faces with the help of the light on a nearby building. The man had light hair, cut in a clean fashion, while the short woman had a dark pixie cut. The other woman had blonde hair and, despite the current predicament Stanley found himself in, he thought of her as very beautiful. "This is who you saw in your vision?"

Vision? Stanley wasn't sure he was hearing correctly anymore.

He became increasingly confused and scared and continued to stumble back on all fours, feeling his side stinging as he did so.

"Yes," the short woman answered and, suddenly, the man appeared next to Stanley, kneeling next to him.

"Stop!" he shouted, feeling the man lift up the side of Stanley's shirt. "Please, don't hurt me!" Stanley felt his own voice finally break, as it was slowly tightening due to the realization that John was dead.

Stanley saw the blonde woman shift uncomfortably, her eyes darting over to the tiny woman, who ignored the blonde's stares that seemed to plead for something.

"Your stab wound is infected," the man said, inspecting the gash on Stanley's side. Stanley's attention turned back to the man in front of him. Stanley looked to his own wound and saw blood flowing out at a relatively steady rate. "You won't survive long before you bleed out." Stanley brushed off the man again and finally grabbed his radio.

"This is Nowak from Ambulance 31, my partner is down and so is the victim!" Stanley exclaimed into the receiver. The unfamiliar man stood up and turned to the two women behind him.

"It's too public here," Stanley heard him say and his eyes grew wide with fear.

Too public?

Were these people here to finish off Stanley?

He became so scared that he forced himself up and started to run to the other end of the alley, his side hurting worse than ever as he ran as fast as he could. He ignored the pain and fatigue due to blood loss, his adrenaline outweighing both heavily. Nothing was going to stop Stanley from escaping the alley filled with confusion and horror, except that the man suddenly appeared in front of him, causing Stanley to stagger backwards. Stanley kept his balance, however, and threw a punch.

All the force Stanley could muster went into the punch, but the man easily dodged it, and the force behind Stanley's punch was too great for his weak state that he fell forward, everything going black just as he hit the gravel below him.

A/N: This is my very first story, so I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. I will update soon if you all enjoyed!