#eclipse battle

Carlisle: Will you surrender to us, child? You have nothing to fear.

Esme: Oh she's just a baby in fact she's MY NEW BABY ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Bree: 🥰✨❤️?

Jasper: No. Death.

Esme: OVER MY PILE OF ASH!!!!

-------- 4 mins later-------

Jane: No. Death.

Carlisle: whatever

Esme:

Despite their victory, it was not a time for celebration.

The Cullens stood frozen, still facing in the direction of where Jane and the others had silently disappeared into the thick wall of trees. Bella's hitched breathing eventually broke them out of the trance. She was shivering, both from the cold and from the shock at what she had just witnessed.

"It's over," Alice assured everyone. "They're already getting on the plane."

There were no cheers, no hugs. They all drew closer together for a moment of exhausted gratitude, and that was it.

Edward took Bella away first. A few moments later, Rosalie and Emmett silently drifted away, not back toward the house but northward toward Vancouver. They would be gone for at least a couple of days. Rosalie paused beside Esme and laid a comforting hand on her mother's shoulder as she passed by.

Jasper stood a little apart from the others, staring at the smoking pile of ash. Now that the danger was past, the memories crashed over him again in rapid succession. It was the smell; the acrid sweetness of immortal death was all too familiar. This battle had been so unlike the others, but the smell was the same.

Alice's hesitant touch on his hand brought him back to the present, reminding him that she was safe. His eyes traced upward now, following the wisps and spirals of purple smoke until they faded against the sky into nothingness.

"We need to scatter the ash," he reminded Carlisle.

"Of course. Alice, did you happen to see if Edward—?"

She nodded. "He took care of the other one."

Esme didn't move yet. Carlisle, Alice, and Jasper got out three of the shovels that had been brought for this purpose and got to work on the far side of the ash heap. It was a grisly job. Carlisle couldn't help thinking that all those disappearance cases from Seattle had finally been solved and that, in the end, he and his family had become the killers that the detectives would continue to search for long after today. He took some small, ironic comfort in the fact that the Guards would never have spared the girl Bree or any other prisoners that he might have taken. He glanced over at Esme, worried by her stillness. But the work needed to be done.

The more incriminating evidence was buried: stubborn shoes that didn't want to burn, jewelry, zippers, buttons, buckles. The purple color of smoke was nearly gone now, turned gray once the fire had finished with the more flammable parts of the dead. As they worked to scatter the ash, the smoke dissipated altogether.

"Wait."

The others looked back at Esme. She was inching toward the last bit of ash, a little pile that lay just on the edge of the blackened ground they were unearthing.

The girl.

Esme knelt down and gently touched the warm ashes. Carlisle took one look at the expression on her face and swept to her side. By the time his shovel clattered to the ground he was already kneeling beside her, one hand laid over both of hers. Their fingers curled together in the ash.

"She didn't know—" Esme began, but her sob broke through and she merely twisted her face into Carlisle's shoulder.

"Oh Esme, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he whispered into her hair. It smelled like the purple smoke.

"No!" she said suddenly, and she squirmed out of Carlisle's arms to turn on Jasper. He had come closer, too, and was just reaching his hand out toward Esme.

"Esme?" Jasper said in surprise. She had never put limits on the unique comfort he could offer; that was Rosalie's and Edward's territory.

"No," Esme told him again, looking uncharacteristically angry. "You let me feel. I'm going to mourn her today, just today. What could have been. What would have been if..." She shook her head, unable to say more.

"As am I," Carlisle said softly. He touched Esme's shoulder and she folded herself back into his arms.

They sat in the dirt, holding vigil over the girl's ashes while Alice and Jasper silently finished the work of cleaning up. It wasn't the first time there had almost been another Cullen, but it had never been anywhere near this close. It had never ended so badly. It had never ended in fire before now. Esme felt the old grief rising up in her throat, tightening around her heart, suffocating her joy. She hadn't had time to love the girl, not really, and she didn't understand why it hurt so much.

Finally, slowly, she scooped up a generous handful of the ashes and looked around for a way to carry them home. Carlisle silently offered his shirt pocket; they would find a permanent home for this particular memory later today. He was uneasy bringing home such a tangible reminder, but there was an empty look of determination in Esme's eyes. It reminded him of something he had never seen, and that frightened him.

When Alice and Jasper were ready to leave, they shared a look with Carlisle, a silent agreement that they would need to pass on to the others: that unless Esme brought it up first, they would not speak of the girl Bree again.