Forks Hospital hummed with a familiar tension—the kind that came each year as the holidays approached. The ER overflowed with sprained wrists from ice skating, minor car accidents on slick roads, and the occasional kitchen injury from overambitious holiday meals. The staff was stretched thin, but the building never truly descended into chaos—not with Carlisle Cullen on shift.

He moved through the halls like a steady current, composed and graceful, clipboard in hand, his coat pristine despite the day’s wear. Patients seemed to relax when he entered a room. Nurses instinctively cleared a path. Even the most overwhelmed interns straightened their posture when they caught sight of him.

In the staff lounge, a group of nursing students clustered together around a table, laughing softly over sandwiches and cold coffees. Their laughter was edged with exhaustion, but there was warmth there too—relief. It was their first moment of rest in hours. Their pale blue scrubs were wrinkled, stained in places. One of them had a pen tucked behind each ear.

Carlisle passed by, nodding politely. A few students nodded back, quickly whispering his name after he was gone.

“Dr. Cullen doesn’t even look tired,” one girl muttered, reaching for a protein bar. “Does he ever blink?”

“Or age,” another added. “Seriously, how long has he worked here? My mom said he was around when she was in school.”

Despite the jokes, the respect in their tone was real. Carlisle had heard it all before. He never minded.

Back on the main floor, a junior doctor raised his voice at a student nurse who had mislabeled a patient chart. Carlisle paused nearby, not interfering, but his presence was enough to soften the doctor’s tone mid-sentence. The student looked up at Carlisle, cheeks flushed, but he offered a calm nod—more encouragement than correction—and moved on.

Teaching hospitals were often a battlefield of pressure and learning, and Carlisle understood the balance better than most. Mistakes would happen. So would lessons.

As he returned to his station, Esme’s voice echoed in his mind—gentle, as always. You lead by example, Carlisle. That’s why they follow you.

A crash sounded from down the hall—metal trays spilling. A nurse sighed. Carlisle was already moving toward it, calm as ever, sleeves rolled up, ready to help.

After all, it was just another holiday season in Forks.

And he had lives to care for—human or not.