Epic A/N: Hey, this is a new story I'm quite happy with and will definitely finish. Major love to my Beta of Extreme Awesomeness, elusivetwilight. Go and give her some love.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. In fact I don't even own Jazz. She's a horse at the barn where I work (I just happen to hate her horse-y guts. Hey that sounds a little weird coming from you EBP, aren't you like a horse lover? Well I am but, would youlike the horse that bites you every fucking time you go near her? -silence- I rest my case.)

Note!: I do not pretend to have any medical knowledge, I just got snippets of info from emailing one of my mom's friends who is an RN. Don't kill me if I get anything wrong medically.

Someone call the ambulance..There's gonna be an accident-Infra-Red by Placebo


I was ready. Jazz was ready. Adrenaline coursed through my body like liquid stood at the in-gate; the thin white line drawn over the finely grated sand. It was the line separating us from our dreams. But once we were over it and running, those dreams would be put right into my hands. Jill, our trainer of four years, was right beside us, telling me last minute advice. "Don't go over three strides in that in and out- that was killed Dutton. One should be good with her stride," she was stern and all—business on the outside, but inside I knew she was just as excited as me. I brushed a fleck of dirt off Jazz's shining, red-brown, blood bay coat absentmindedly.

"Okay, I got it," I said. I narrowed my eyes and straightened up in my saddle. I was so ready. I was the youngest competitor at Rolex. I was sixteen, Jazz, my horse, was seven and it was our year. We'd dominated the dressage stage with a score of thirty-six, blown right through cross-country with a clear and were timed at ten minutes, we so had the jumping phase in the bag. If I won this, I was going to the Olympics.

The buzzer went off, and we were flying. Jazz cantered smoothly up to the first element, a six foot oxer covered in all sorts of flower boxes and brightly colored paints; it was all done up to try and spook the horses. Jazz didn't even flick her ear. We sailed over it, her hooves clearing it easily. As she landed she pulled forward, I pulled her back saying, wait, baby, wait. The next was a wall, about five feet, something Jazz and I could do in our sleep. We cleared it with what I knew was a good, six inches. She landed and thundered over to the in-and-out, two flashily decorated jumps set only one or two strides apart. Again I pulled her back a little by squeezing with my thighs. Hold on, not yet. We sailed over it and with one quick, bouncy stride we were over the second oxer. I held her until we'd finished the incredibly tight turn to the roll-back, a jump where you had to take an incredibly tight turn to get to. Then in the last two strides I let her loose.

Then her nose was in the air, much too soon. Suddenly, I wasn't on her anymore, a large dark shadow covered the sun; I was falling, down, down, down.

My back impacted with the ground, leaving me breathless. Then I was being crushed and smothered, I heard Jazz whinnying like crazy, I tried to say, "Easy girl." I'm not sure what came out of my mouth.

"Bella!" I heard a voice call.

"Someone get an airlift!"

"Get her out from underneath!"

"Everyone GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

A loud crack. Then roaring.

Suddenly the pressure was gone and I felt something very rigid underneath me. There was a loud humming coming from somewhere; I'm pretty sure I told someone to, "Shut off the fan."

I woke up to a whole lot of blinding, pristine white, and a pretty strange bleeping eyes glanced around the room anxiously, I saw someone asleep in a chair by my bed. It was Jill. "Jill?"" I mumbled sleepily. "Wha you doin'? Ja… need a be wor…"

Jill'seyes burst open, their watery blue irises bloodshot. "Bella? Oh God, Bella…" she sobbed grabbing my hand.

A woman, clinically dressed in a lilac shirt and pants ensemble, came in through the glass door to my room.

Wait… my room wasn't white; it wasn't this big-it was over a barn for Pete's sake-, there wasn't a really ugly chair next to my bed. Also, my bed certainly did not have rails along the side like this one did; mine was tiny and antique, this one was cold and clinical. And their certainly were not nurses coming in through glass doors.

Then it finally hit me: I was in a hospital.

Once I woke enough to think coherently, Jill explained to me what happened. I'd been going to the roll-back and something happened, out of all the horse people there they couldn't figure out what, somehow it had ended with the jump and Jazz lying on top of me. I'd fractured my L5 vertebra, pelvis, and both femurs. Jazz was… put down on the spot. I'd been in a coma for a week. I learned that my doctors planed to have me moved to the hospital in Seattle Washington for physical therapy.

Fast forward the next excruciatingly slow sixteen months of physical therapy, where I'd learned to walk again-with the help of a cane- to now; where my dad said he couldn't take care of me, to where I was put into foster care. My mom's death eleven year ago really did a number on my dad and he was never the same; now with all this my dad said he just couldn't take care of a disabled child.

Although the truth was, I hadn't lived with my dad since I was eight years old. That summerI visited my grandfather just outside Phoenix. He had a fancy jumpers breeding farm, there I'd learned to ride and discovered I had a natural feel for the sport. By the end of the summer I was helping Jill, who was his assistant trainer back then, school green horses.

Once every last 'i' was dotted and every't' was crossed, I was my grand-père's girl. I for the next eight years every breath I took, every though I had, was horses. became a champion junior rider with his help.

Grand-pèredied when I was fourteen and Charlie unfortunatelybecame my legal guardian again. Neverthelessconsented for mestay with Jill- who had taken over as trainer at his father's farm, while Charlie was keeping most of the income. After my grandfather died, Jazz-histhenfavorite three year-old- became moved right up through the level of three-day eventing right to Rolex; where my career and her life ended.

I was offered by the social worker to live with Jill but, I vehemently opposed. I wanted nothing more to do with horses; going back there would only cause me personal pain. I stayed in the hospital for a few months, finishing up physical therapy.

One day someone watched as I worked on stretching my lower back in physical therepy. It was painful, but I was also used to it. He was a young blond doctor who introduced himself as, "Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

I reached out to shake his hand with my right hand- my left held my heavily leaned-upon cane- and said, "Hi Dr. Cullen, I'm Bella." I never said I was raised by savages.

"Call me Carlisle, please" he insisted with a dazzling white smile.

"Umm… okay. So why were you watching me today?" I asked bluntly.

"I was told by one of my RNs that you were quite the little wonder girl. It was predicted that you'd never walk again, so I heard," another smile and a wink.


"Okay then… I'm gonna walk back to my room now," I said trying to make my way past him. I felt uncomfortable; all this winking and smiling was making me think this guy was creeper. I just wanted to retreat to my room.

"Let me get you some lunch in the cafeteria. I'm sure you're tired of this hospital food," another wink, another smile. I repressed the urged to shudder. He was right; but what did he want from me?

Still against my better judgment, I trusted him, "Okay."

So yeah, no Edward yet. Sorry. I hope it wasn't terrible; elusivetwilight told me to try to elaborate on the horsey stuff, but if anything confuses you just drop me a line, okay?

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