AUGUST • C.CULLEN

six

CARLISLE
1918, CHICAGO

Carlisle smiles gently at the ill patient on the hospital cot beneath him as he injects a small dose of epinephrine into the man's arm.

"I'm injecting you with a small dose of epinephrine," He informs him softly, careful not to disturb any other patients or doctors. "It should help with the pneumonia."

The response he gives is a shallow grunt through an oxygen mask, and Carlisle pats his shoulder gently with a gloved hand.

He can't find it in himself to promise that he'll be okay, his heart dropping to his feet as he steps away from the man and catches a glimpse of a young boy in worse condition than many others in the hospital in the cot next to his patient. He's keeled over the side of his bed, vomiting.

He hides his frown as he opens the window between the cots. Ventilation was said to help. He turns when a frail, shaky hand lightly brushes his wrist. The skin was hot to the touch.

Carlisle moves swiftly, taking the warm, damp cloth from his patient's head and dipping it into the bowl of cool water on the small table next to the sickly man, wringing it before placing it back on his forehead. "Is that better?" He asks gently.

He nods just barely, coughing softly.

"I'll have a nurse bring some hot chocolate, okay?"

Another nod, this time with a weak smile.

Carlisle spins on his heel and leaves the man's cot with a heavy heart, smelling the death in the room. He finds a nurse across the way and walks to her side, gently smiling at her.

"Hello," He says softly.

The nurse looks up from her chart and smiles pityingly back. "Doctor Cullen, what can I do for you?"

"One of my patients, Mr Elliot Taylor, does he have any family left?"

Her face falls as she looks back at the man's cot. "I'm afraid not, Doctor Cullen. They've all passed away with this horrid illness. If I may ask, why?"

"I'm just afraid he won't be around much longer," Carlisle gives a sad smile. "That's all." The air between the two is heavy with mourning. Carlisle shakes it off and gives her a forlorn smile. "Would you please take some hot chocolate over to him?"

"Of course, Doctor." She smiles politely, no real joy on her face. Carlisle nods and turns to leave when she gets his attention again. "Oh, Doctor Cullen?"

"Yes?"

The nurse looks down at her chart, then points down the hall to two separate cots. The patients laying on them are obviously related, and his heart sinks further.

"We had two new admissions tonight- Mr Edward Anthony Masen and his mother, Miss Elizabeth Masen. Miss Masen is still without a Doctor. Would you mind-?" She holds the chart out to him with hopeful eyes and he takes it with a gentle smile. "Not at all, I'll look after her."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Carlisle nods politely again and then makes his way to the two cots on the opposite end of the hall. "Hello," He says softly, looking her in the eyes as a second Doctor speaks with her son quietly next to them, "I'm Doctor Cullen. I'll be treating you. Now, could you tell me what your symptoms are as of yet?"