A Haon (1)

A/N: Well, here I am again. This story has been a long time coming, so I'm posting the first chapter a couple days early. This will post weekly, but the specific day may change because of work. I want to thank my pre-readers: Maplestyle, Agoodwitch, 2 brown eyes, SassyNoles, and Bitter Harpy. They all rock and are amazing! Mel C is my beta, and she is so awesome and I love her help so much! This story is mostly BPOV. There will be some EPOV, but not a ton. And while it is Mobward, this is through Bella's eyes, so keep that in mind. Also, the chapter names are just the number of the chapter in Irish Gaelic. Lastly, I'm not a doctor, so I'm sure there will be inaccuracies. This is fiction, so it happens. Well, let's get onto the story and I hope you enjoy it.

"Hey, Bella? You sure you don't want to come with us?"

I looked up from the patient file that I was writing in and saw Jessica standing there looking at me expectantly. "Sorry, Jess, I have a ton of dictation notes to get through before I can even think of anything else."

"You work too much, B. Have a good night," she replied, waving and walking out with Mike, Lauren, and Jake. They were going out to have a night of fun on the town.

I actually had no dictation to catch up on, because I did my job, and I did it well. I had finished my surgical residency six months ago, but over the years, I had developed a good routine for completing my work efficiently and thoroughly. Even though residents get paid, my student loan payments were really low during that time because I had a lower income that my payments were based on. Now that I had a job at Virginia Mason, as a licensed trauma surgeon, my monthly payment had jumped higher than I could have guessed, as my income quadrupled. Even with having a higher income, I was still broke from the increased loan payments, rent, car payment, and my parents medical bills.

Being on call and working insane hours, I also didn't have an option to get a second job, and nothing would make me the money I needed. It was sad that I went through thirteen years of school and training to still have to eat Ramen noodles. I slammed down the patient file in frustration and huffed. I got my stuff together and made sure everything was where it was supposed to be on my desk before I headed out to my car.

I was twenty-nine, single, and completely miserable. Sure, I had achieved that dream of becoming a doctor, which was something I had wanted since I was six years old, but I had no one to share it with. My mom got cancer two years ago, which sapped a lot of the money I was making from my residency, then my dad got sick shortly after she did. They both passed away right before I finished my residency, so at least they were able to see me graduate medical school.

I had no boyfriends or even interested partners because I had been working toward my future since I was fifteen years old. I had the occasional one-night stand, or weekend fling, but no guy wanted to stick around for the broken dates, weird hours, and my caring about school more than them.

I opened the door to the back seat, threw my bag in, got in the driver's seat, and buckled up before I pulled out of the parking lot for employees. It was dark out, but it had more to do with the fact that it was winter in Seattle than the hour. Looking at the clock on the dashboard, I saw it was barely eight p.m. I was sitting at a stoplight behind a flashy blue sports car, and honestly, I was a little envious that someone had that much cash to drop on a car. I looked down at a text I received, waiting for the light to change, smiling that Jess was sharing some pictures of their night. As I looked up, I saw an SUV clip the front of the sports car.

"What the actual fuck?" I exclaimed. To make matters worse, the SUV kept going and didn't stop. The driver's side door of the sports car flung open, and a man got out, but he seemed to be struggling, before he fell to the asphalt, his movement ceasing. Now, as a doctor, if I saw an accident and the situation was safe, I was obligated to help. I didn't know if the situation was safe, but with how many emergencies I had helped out with, I turned my car off, grabbed my stethoscope from my clothes bag in the back, and jumped out of the vehicle, going toward the unconscious man. I noticed that the passenger had gotten out of the car too and was kneeling near the driver, on the phone.

"I'm a doctor. Let me try to help," I said, hoping the passenger would give me some room. He hung up and nodded as I knelt on the other side of him. "Sir," I said, trying to get a response out of the man on the ground. He didn't move at all. "Shit." I felt for a pulse, and it was strong. I looked him over, assessing what may be wrong. I brushed his hair back from his forehead and saw the pretty sizable gash on his forehead. I turned to his friend. "Can you grab the first aid kit I have in my car? Should be in the back seat."

The man turned toward my car and was back in a few minutes. I grabbed it from him and pulled out everything I needed to clean and bandage my patient's forehead. I was going to have to use liquid bandages because I didn't have a suture kit. Not wanting him to lose any more blood, I started to work on closing his wound.

"So, you're a doctor?" the other man asked.

"I am. I'm a surgeon," I answered simply.

"Pretty hot for a doctor. Aren't surgeons supposed to be like old or something?"

I looked at him over my shoulder and gave him a coy smirk. "Yeah, well I'm really smart."

He laughed and nodded. "Badass."

I laughed back while I continued to help my patient, getting the wound closed and cleaned. "He should be waking up. He needs to get to the hospital."

"Yeah, he may be passed out, but I know he won't go for being taken to the hospital."

"Great," I said sarcastically. This guy was huge, and I didn't know him, so I wasn't going to push the subject.

I looked down at the man again, and since most of the emergency was under control, I finally saw how utterly gorgeous this guy was. His head was laying in my lap. He had a jaw that could cut glass, with just the right amount of scruff. His lips were perfectly shaped, in a natural pout. His face was completely symmetrical, and he had a nose that looked like it had been broken before but finding that one imperfection made his impossibly beautiful face just seem more real. I pulled out my penlight and pulled his eyelid up; his eyes dilated like they were supposed to, and his other eye snapped open. His eyes were a startling shade of green. His eyes locked with mine as he gasped and sat up in a hurry, scuffling away from me. In an effort to try to calm him down, I held up my hands.

"Hey. You were in a car crash and you lost consciousness. I need you to remember red, yellow, and blue. You had a pretty big gash on your forehead. I fixed that as best as I could with the supplies I had, but I have a strong feeling you have a concussion. You might want to take it slow. Can you tell me today's date and your name?"

I looked over at his friend and tilted my head toward Green Eyes. He nodded and came over to help his friend up, allowing me to stand as well.

"It's Friday, Dec 15th, and I'm not giving you my name," he said, and his voice was smooth velvet, and I wanted to just sink into that sound. What the hell was happening? Snap out of it, Bella, I chastised myself. "Who are you?" Green Eyes asked me.

"I'm a doctor, Bella Swan," I said, raising my hand to shake his. He looked down at my hand and didn't make any move to take it, causing me to let my hand drop.

"Thanks, Bella," his friend said.

"If you're not going to take him to the hospital then just make sure the place where I put the liquid bandage stays clean and make sure he isn't experiencing dizziness, nausea, or loss of consciousness," I said. "What were the colors I just told you?"

The friend nodded. "Red, yellow, and blue, Bella," he said, mocking that I was asking and giving me a huge grin with dimples. It made his size less intimidating, the boyish charm making him seem like a teddy bear.

I rolled my eyes at his childishness and was about to ask if they needed any further help when a dark blue SUV pulled up. The big muscly friend helped Green Eyes in the back seat, and then he went around and got in the passenger's side. The windows were tinted, so I couldn't see the driver or the occupants. I turned back around and started gathering my things together. I threw everything in my car and got out of there as fast as I could.

When I got home, I immediately got ready for bed. I went through my nightly routine on autopilot, not really paying much attention to what I was doing. I just thought over the encounter I had. It was weird that neither of them called the cops or paid much attention to the car that had hit them. It seemed pretty intentional. I shook my head as I got into bed. It was right before I fell asleep that I realized I had gotten neither of their names.

The days following were much of the same—work, sleep, eat, and repeat over and over. I was always good at compartmentalizing. It was why I graduated high school at sixteen and immediately went to college and graduated magna cum laude with a bachelor's in Biochem, then I went straight to medical school, followed by five years of a surgical residency. Yeah, as the mystery guy had mentioned the night before, I was young for a surgeon, but I definitely wasn't the youngest.

When I got home from work a few days later, things took a turn for the weird. I walked into my apartment to find a large vase of flowers, and not only plain red roses, but it was also a variety of really beautiful flowers. While I was wondering how the delivery guy got in my house, I pulled the card off its holder.

Bella,

Thank you for your help. I wanted to assure you that I'm okay and healing fine. My mom picked the flowers, so I hope you like them.

Edward (the unconscious guy)

I stared at the elegant script longer than was necessary. What the actual fuck? How did he get in my house, and not only that how did he know where I lived? Because you were stupid and gave a stranger your first and last name, told them you were a doctor, and were still wearing your ID badge, my brain yelled at me. Shit! I might as well just have given him my address and my cell phone number. Now, normally psychos didn't buy expensive flower arrangements for girls they were planning to murder, but crazy people never made sense. Besides, what grown man had his mom pick the flowers he was sending to a stranger. I rolled my eyes at myself again and moved the flowers to my kitchen table.

I jumped into the shower and had just finished putting my lounge clothes on when there was a loud pounding knock on my door. I rushed to the door, wondering who would be knocking like that. When I opened the door, I was confronted with the last thing I would have imagined—Edward was holding up his friend from the other night, and they were both covered in blood.

"Oh my god, what happened?"

"Emmett got shot."

"Holy fuck. In here," I said, gesturing to my bedroom. I laid down a heavy blanket before he let Emmett lay down. Instead of wondering why they were here instead of a hospital, I grabbed the towel I had just used and chucked it at Edward. "Put pressure on the wound, now!" I said, hurrying from the room to go grab things I would need. I had never done surgery on the fly, but I was committed because Emmett would bleed out or go into shock before the ambulance got here. I grabbed the four first aid kits from under my bathroom cabinet and other various instruments from my kitchen then hurried back to the bedroom. I needed something to prop Emmett's head up. I remembered I was wearing a sweatshirt, and that would be good enough, so not even thinking about the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra, I whipped it over my head, leaving me in a tight tank top. I settled the makeshift pillow under Emmett's head and kneeled on the floor beside him to get to work. "Do you know where he was shot?"

Edward looked at me with narrowed eyes. He pointed to Emmett's side. I gestured for him to move the towel that was saturated with blood. I had a large pad of gauze and looked at the wound. The blood pouring from his side wasn't slowing. He needed surgery and fast. "Edward, he needs to go to the hospital."

"You're a doctor—fix it," he said, flippantly.

"I don't have a clinic in my house. I don't have the proper equipment. He's gonna need the bullet to be removed, and I have no anesthesia for him."

"Make it work, Bella," he said through clenched teeth. The look in his eyes told me he wasn't going to budge on this.

I huffed out a deep breath. I put as much of my body weight against Emmett as I could, without making his injury worse. "You're gonna have to help me hold him down. This is gonna hurt. I'm sorry, Emmett," I said as I put on gloves. Edward looked a little wary, which wasn't reassuring. He held down Emmett's arms, and I could see he was bracing, because Emmett was a big guy. I took one of the small scalpels I had at home and cut across the entry wound because I needed to be able to see into the wound, so I could get eyes on the bullet. I noticed there was no exit wound, meaning the bullet was still lodged in his side. I cut as much as I could, feeling bad every second. Emmett was groaning and I knew it hurt. "Hold on for me, Emmett." Moving the flesh around carefully, I looked for the bullet, locating it quickly. Luckily, it wasn't too deep or close to any major artery, so the chance for excessive bleeding was small. With the tongs that I pulled from one of the first aid kits, I was able to extract the bullet and drop both into a bowl that I had brought into the room with me. After I cleaned the wound with antiseptic, I went to work stitching the wound together.

Once I was done, I added some antibacterial cream and a gauze pad just to cover the stitches from his clothes. Emmett had passed out during the impromptu surgery, so I crawled up his body and took a quick check of his vitals. His heartbeat was regular, and his respiration was normal. "He passed out from the pain. We should let him wake up on his own."

Edward nodded and I pulled the gloves off and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the room, knowing that was the only way to get him to follow me. "Explain why the hell you brought him here instead of a hospital. You put him at risk, and I could lose my license for this. What the fuck?"

Edward looked pissed and I knew the look he was giving me was meant to be intimidating. I rolled my eyes at him, crossed my arms, and waited for him to realize I wasn't scared of him. I saw the muscles twitch in his jaw. "I couldn't take him to the hospital, and I don't have to explain my decisions to you, little girl."

Little girl? Oh, hell no! "Ugh, you know what, you're such an arrogant asshole. I'm not a little girl, you jackass. I'm sorry you are intimidated by a girl smarter than you, but you don't get to come into my house and insult me. I don't even know you, and you think that you got me figured out. I helped you and your friend with no questions asked. I would kick your ass out—"

"I'd really like to see you try. I'm not leaving Emmett here."

"Yeah, I know. If you would listen to someone else talk, you would realize I wasn't finished." I turned away from him and stretched, pulling my hair through my hands.

"Could you put another shirt on?" he asked in a choked voice. It was then that I remembered that I was in a tank top with no bra.

"Fuck." I ran to my bedroom and put another baggy sweater on. I went back out to the living room and found Edward sitting in the recliner chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. I sat down on my couch, not saying a word to him. He stood up suddenly, pulled a stack of bills out, and put his hand out to give it to me. I just looked at him, not making an effort to take the money. "What's that?"

"Money."

"Thanks, Genius. Why are you trying to hand it to me?"

"For your services," he said, like he was talking to a child. That patronizing tone made me defensive immediately.

"I'm not taking your money."

"I don't like owing people favors. I know you need the money, so stop trying to be noble."

I stood up from the couch, completely confused and upset. "How do you know anything about what I need?"

He gave me a real grin, the first one I'd ever seen on his face. "You're not ready for that answer yet. Just take it. If I know your financial situation, I can just wire the money to your account."

I huffed and took the money from him. I folded the stack of bills and put them in the pocket of my sweatpants without even looking at it.

"You really don't care about the money?"

"No, that's not why I wanted to be a doctor."

"You wanna help people?" he asked mockingly.

"Yeah, I do. I'm sure it's a foreign concept to you."

"So, to repeat your words from earlier, you think you got me all figured out."

"I know I have you figured out. Tell me, Edward, how many people can you actually say you're friends with? How many serious relationships have you been in? How many times have you helped someone out of the goodness of your heart, with nothing to gain from it? You may think you're mysterious, but you're pretty fucking obvious."

Edward and I just looked at each other, locked into a staredown. The muscle in his jaw was twitching, and I just crossed my arms, waiting to see what he would say. We both turned toward the bedroom when Emmett started swearing loudly. I hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a prescription bottle and a glass of water, then I headed to where Emmett was laying. I took a pill out of the bottle and handed it to Emmett and gave him the water.

"What is this?"

"Oxycodone. It's a painkiller." I handed him the bottle. "It was an old prescription, and since this is off the books, I can't write you a prescription, so you will have to use this one sparingly."

He took the pill and swallowed the water. "Thanks, Bella. I imagine you patched me up, too?"

I nodded. "I did," I said, glancing at Edward and shaking my head in frustration.

"Fuck, Edward, what did you say to piss her off," Emmett asked, looking at Edward.

I laughed and Edward looked offended. "What makes you think it's my fault?"

Emmett felt good enough to roll his eyes, shake his head, and smile that dimpled grin. "Listen, sweetheart, whatever he said, just forget it. He's always grumpy. Probably needs to get laid."

Edward huffed and ran his hand through his hair. "Em, let's get out of here before I have to kill you."

"If it's not an inconvenience to you, I would like to check Em's vitals again," I announced.

Edward gestured for me to continue. I grabbed Emmett's wrist and looked at my watch, checking his heart rate. Using my stethoscope, I listened to his chest and stomach for any issues. The gauze around the incision site was peeled back, and I saw no signs of swelling or redness, which was a good sign. Making sure I had his full attention, with my hands on both sides of his face, I said, "If this gets red, hot, or you get a fever then that usually means an infection. That means you need to get to a hospital or get here. Got it."

He nodded. I let go of his face and smiled at him.

"Do I get a lollipop for being a good patient?" he asked.

I laughed. "I gave you drugs, Em."

He chuckled and nodded his head. Edward was watching me with an intense look of fascination. Edward and Emmett offered to help me clean up, but I told them it was fine and that I could handle it. I walked them to the front door and Edward turned to me. "See you around, Bella."

"Let's hope not too soon," I said back.

He smiled out of actual humor, and I shook my head, closing the door on their retreating forms. While I was glad I was able to help Emmett, I never saw my day going this way and I was unsure whether I wanted to see Edward again.

A/N: So, how do we feel? Edward knows how to make a first impression and I love this Emmett, I mean don't I always lol. Leave a review and let me know how you feel. I have a facebook, just search for cullenlvr83 fics. Thank you for taking the time to read and until next week lovelies!