Dear Readers,

So, this is my fic for the Teslen August challenge, "Stargazing." I took a completely random approach to it, so I'm going to have to explain a few things first before you read. The OC in this ficlet is one of the characters I created for my conceived Sanctuary spinoff about vampires. Thus, in this canon, vampires are NOT extinct and are in fact mostly in hiding. This particular OC is probably going to show up again in possible future fics, but said fics may not necessarily be directly connected to this one, if that makes any sense.

Also, this fic is pretty much very SLIGHT Teslen. It's mostly implied, at the very end, in a roundabout way.

Anyway, that's all you really need to know. I hope you enjoy :)

Best regards from a Tesla-obsessed Bookworm,

Miss Pookamonga ;p

PS: Adoption saves lives.

Serbo/Croatian Terms

mališa - "little one"

Slatki snovi - "sweet dreams"

(I apologize for any inaccuracy)

Wish

"Taryn, are you in there?"

The redheaded girl pokes her head out the bathroom door, her mouth covered in white foam. "Imbrffingmyteefh," she says through her toothbrush, before disappearing again.

A few moments later, the precocious six-year-old emerges from the bathroom and sprints towards her bed, leaping onto her lavender sheets at the last moment.

"STORYTIME!" she yells enthusiastically as she lands with a bounce. Her voice is a bit loud for the time—the clock on her bedside table reads 10:00 P.M. But ever since Helen took the little vampire in from the children's home where she was placed after her parents' deaths, the residents of the Sanctuary have grown quite used to the girl's boisterous behavior.

The tall ex-vampire standing by her bedside sits down and turns to the girl—Taryn Flynn, she's called—with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I can't tonight," he says softly, tucking the covers around Taryn's tiny elbows as she settles in.

"Why?" Her green eyes grow wide with disappointment.

There is something about the innocence of her expression that reminds Nikola of his younger sister Marica back when she was Taryn's age. He quickly shakes off the thought. "I have a big project to finish in the lab," he continues sadly. It's the first time in a long time that the notion of staying up to work has left him feeling...regretful. It was initially Helen's idea, this pairing of him, the once-vampire, with this child, the "vampire-in-training." Helen thought it would be good for the girl to have someone she could easily connect to as a mentor, and since Nikola once possessed similar traits, he was a perfect candidate. At first, Nikola balked at the suggestion, not wanting to emotionally involve himself with yet someone else he might have the possibility of losing, but Taryn's charm, like his own, eventually proved to be irresistible. Now the two are practically inseparable, so much so that an outsider could easily mistake them for father and daughter.

"What are you working on now?" Taryn asks, clearly still disappointed, but masking the emotion far too well in her bright eyes.

"It's very complicated," Nikola answers. Despite the fact that Taryn is exceptionally intelligent for her age—an advantage of her unique genetic makeup—he doesn't think he can explain complex physics theories to a kindergartner.

"Oh," Taryn replies. There is a moment of silence as she looks down and fiddles with the edge of her sheet. Nikola suddenly finds that he can't bear seeing her face fall, even just a little bit. He has become everything to her, and she clings to him like a lifeline. Any moment she can't spend with him is almost like torture. She's all alone, just like he is—her parents are gone and the police still have no leads to the killer, and to the court system she is just another commodity. She needs him, even in the smallest of moments, because he is the only family she really has. Yet tonight, he has no choice but to leave her alone again.

"Look, mališa, I am truly sorry I can't stay to tell you a story tonight," Nikola whispers guiltily, slipping his long fingers into Taryn's small ones and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I promise I will make it up to you."

She's not entirely mollified, but with a maturity far beyond her years, she accepts the proposal with a nod. "Okay." Pause. And then, in a much smaller voice: "Pinky promise?" She holds out one tiny pinky finger.

Nikola smiles. "Of course." He curls his much larger finger around hers. "Pinky promise." He seals the pact with a wink.

Taryn grins, showing the gap where her two front teeth used to be. "Good luck on your project."

For some reason that brings tears to his eyes, and he has to turn away so the little girl won't see him so vulnerable. "Thank you," he answers softly, standing up and leaning over to turn off her bedside lamp. "Slatki snovi." He places two more kisses on her forehead, just to make it a solid three, and makes to leave. As he looks up, he notices that outside Taryn's window, the night sky is clear and the stars are twinkling brilliantly against the deep indigo background.

With a wistful sigh, Nikola turns and exits the room, closing the door behind him.

She waits until she can no longer hear his shoes' tell-tale click-clack on the hallway floor. Then, she scrambles out from under the sheets and crawls across her bed to the window. A light, cool breeze tousles her ginger strands as it makes its way through the small crack at the bottom. Taryn grips the window's edge and pushes it farther upward—enough so that she can poke her head out into the night air.

As she peers up at the dome of stars overhead, a memory from earlier in the day drifts to the forefront of her mind.

"Helen," Taryn says, furrowing her brows seriously as she glances at the photo of Ashley on Helen's desk.

"Yes, dear, what is it?"

"Do you think…do you think you would ever want…to have another daughter?" She pauses cautiously. "Like…Ashley?"

There is a short silence. Taryn doesn't look up right away, but she can tell that Helen is caught off-guard by her question.

"Well…" Helen takes a deep breath, gazing deeply into the girl's green eyes once Taryn glances up. "It's hard…to explain. It would be nice, but…" She trails off, not knowing what to say.

"Is this one of those grown-up things that I'm supposed to understand when I'm older?" Taryn looks away again, fixated on the photo of Ashley.

She can practically hear Helen forcing that fake grown-up smile that she's so accustomed to getting from people. "Yes. Yes, I'm afraid it's one of those things."

Taryn blinks a tear away, and the memory fades. She rubs a hand over her eyes almost angrily. She is not going to cry. She is not a baby. Not a baby, not a baby.

But she's not a grown-up either. Because she obviously doesn't understand grown-ups at all.

Helen has promised to find her a good home and a good family, one that knows of the abnormal world and that will know how to handle her…unique characteristics. But the fact is Taryn doesn't want that home and that family anymore. There was a time when she did, but now, everything is different.

Because this is her home. Here, at the Sanctuary. And this is where her family is.

The girl reaches into the pocket of her pajama top and pulls out a worn photo. She carefully unfolds it and stares at the smiling faces frozen there. The photo is one of only two she keeps close to her at all times.

One is of her and her parents.

And the other, the one she holds in her hand, is of her and the two people that have become like parents to her.

She remembers the day it was taken. She dragged Helen and Nicky out for a walk in the garden. Kate was wandering around with her camera and happened to be in a photo-snapping mood, so she made them all sit down on a bench so she could get a "cute picture."

Taryn is there, in the middle of the bench, with Helen and Nicky on either side of her, arms wrapped around her shoulders. They're all smiling. Nicky, with his smart grin, Helen, with her brilliant beam, and her, Taryn, with that dorky thing that's supposed to be a smile.

She gulps back another unwanted tear. She loves them both. Like the mommy and daddy she no longer has. And she knows that they love each other, even though they never say it, and that they love her. She can sense that from a mile away. Why, then, can't everything work out perfectly like the way she wants it to?

Taryn finally tears her gaze away from the photo and glances back up at the sky. She's done this so many nights that it's become a habit now. Her eye catches the familiar star, glowing more brightly against the dark than its friends surrounding it. She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut, clutching the photo to her chest like she has done so many times before.

"'Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.'"

She opens her eyes and stares at her special star. "Please, please, please," she begs the heavens above, clutching the photo more tightly. "Please give me my family."

The star winks, answering neither yes nor no. Taryn sighs and re-folds the photo, placing it carefully back into her pocket. She then crawls back under the covers and shuts her eyes again.

She hopes that one day, her wish will be granted. But until then, she has only her dreams to fill her heart.

FIN