AUGUST • C.CULLEN

twenty-one

August kneels at his daughter's grave.

His heart seizes in his chest at the thought. His daughter's grave.

He drops the flowers in his hand as they sag and rot, the petals falling at his smallest movement. He frowns at the loose petals beneath him, knowing it is his fault that the plants have died so soon.

That she has died so soon.

August's fingertips ache from where they dig into the soil. He doesn't notice. His mind betrays him; showing him his daughter and every last interaction he'd had with her. He remembers the day they'd first met, how she'd clung to the toy she'd been gifted and refused to leave his side despite barely knowing him. The Nymph's hazel eyes settle on the worn blue plushie resting against her tree. He's never seen it look so alone.

The trees are suffocating. There is no sun to warm the cool area, no breeze to move the still air. The animals do not come here and the humans wouldn't dare venture this deep into the darkness. This is by design. He had created the clearing to be this way. There will be no disturbing his daughter's peace.

August's eyes slide away from the plushie, his chest tight, and he glances at the gargantuan oak at Violet's side. "Elkin," He whispers, voice hoarse. He cannot speak any louder; he had screamed his voice away. "Elkin. My sister." Tears well in his eyes despite himself. "My sister," August tries, his voice quivering and cracking, "Protect her. Please. Watch over my daughter."

She is silent as he cries and silent when he can cry no more near three hours later.

"Little brother," Her voice says, soft, "Your daughter will be embraced by the spirits of the trees. Please, do not fear for her any longer."

He doesn't have the strength to respond. He's surrounded by silence, again, when Elkin's presence leaves him. Until he's not. The quiet crunching of fallen leaves beneath someone's weight is what alerts him to the newcomer. The familiar warmth that rushes through his veins, warming him from the tip of his nose to the tip of his toes, is what tells him who it is.

"I'm sorry."

August stiffens, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He doesn't respond. Carlisle takes a hesitant step closer, fists clenched at his sides, venom-slicked eyes trained intently on August's back.

"Auggie, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't... I thought she would be okay, I never..." There's quiet as Carlisle sucks in a harsh breath. "What you did, what you said... You were right. I, uh..."

August's heart clenches in his chest, his eyes locked on the vine-riddled plaque beneath the tree.

HERE LIES VIOLET EKKO CULLEN.

BELOVED DAUGHTER AND FRIEND.

12/19/2001 - 03/16/2005.

Carlisle sniffs. "I'm, uh... I'm going to say goodbye to her. Properly, in our clearing. I, uh... I want you to be there." The two men fall into an uncomfortable silence, August's mind unable to process anything more than the words printed onto the plaque. His stomach churns.

"Okay," Carlisle sighs quietly, "I've got to go get ready, now... I hope I'll see you there." The Vampire walks away, and soon it's only August in the hidden clearing; alone again. Thunder rumbles across the sky and, quickly, the heavens open, unleashing a violent downpour of rain.

August ignores the wet seeping through his clothing, the moist soil clogging the space between his skin and his nails. He takes a quivering breath and pushes himself to his feet.

—

Carlisle sits quietly in his office; the Cullen house empty but for himself and August. The Vampire's eyes are set intently on the photo before him of himself, August and Violet, taken not even a day after her adoption had been confirmed. In the photo, she'd been sitting on August's shoulders, grinning widely, the bags beneath her eyes not looking so dark. Carlisle stands in front of August, grinning into the camera as he leans into August's hold, his partner's arms wrapped securely around Carlisle's neck. Violet is stretching her arm out, her small hand pressing into the blonde's hair from behind. Carlisle's eyes burn and he tries to blink away the tears that will never fall. He misses her.