A/N: I'm still working on Born To Die, but this has been bothering me for days and I'm in the middle of moving, so this is all I could manage to upload. ( I'm uploading from my phone, so please excuse the formatting.)

Summer, 1962

Violet is unbelievably excited. In just a few hours she will be Mrs. Tate Langdon. Her years of waiting are finally coming to an end. She always swore she'd never be one of those girls, the ones who act like getting married is their ultimate achievement, and cry during the ceremony, and have really cliched hand written vows. But she has been waiting for this day since the first grade, when the neighbor-boy shoved a hand made valentine into her hands, pulled her braids, and ran away blushing. She truly is marrying her best friend today, the boy she used to swim naked with in kiddie pools and make blanket forts the backyard with. Now, if only the goddamned car would hurry up and get her to the church...

Tate is nervous. Like, cold sweat, stomach churning, dizzy nervous. He's standing at the altar in front of everyone, waiting. Violet is already ten minutes late, and while her father has assured him that it's just a bit of car trouble, he's still worried. Maybe she got cold feet and changed her mind. He prays that's not the case. He's been waiting for today since before he can remember. As far as he knows, he's always been head over heels for Ms. Violet Harmon. They'd grown up next door to each other, their mothers more often than not corralling them together. They'd witnessed each other at their best and their worst. Nothing could change his mind about marrying this girl.

"Mamaaa," Violet whines. "I'm late for my own wedding! What if everybody leaves?" Her mother hushes her. "Violet, you know very well that nothing can speed the arrival of the other car. You'll just have to be patient until it arrives" Violet sighs and turns to Constance. "Do you think he'll wait for me?" Constance laughs. "Child, my boy would wait a hundred years at that altar if it meant he could marry you." Violet pressed her hand to her mouth to cover her smile. "I know, I know. I just worry sometimes. He is a man, after all, and they are such complicated creatures." Vivien and Constance laugh together. "Dear, there is nothing complicated about men! Keep 'em warm, fed, and, ahem...satisfied and they will do whatever you want. Tate is already wrapped around your little finger. Has been since he was about four years old." Addie nods happily next to Violet. "Tate loves you very much," she says solemnly. This time, Violet doesn't hide her smile.

Tate is really freaking out now. It's been half an hour, and 'car trouble' is clearly no longer a viable excuse. Even Ben is starting to look worried. The guests are starting to get antsy, talking quietly and shifting in their seats. Nora has already had to take the ring bearers - her seven year old son Thaddeus, and Violet's two year old brother Jeffery - out to the garden to play. Tate runs a hand through his hair in frustration, ignoring the way Moira - the wedding planner - frowns at him for doing so. Violet's bridesmaids - Chloe, Leah, and Stephanie give him sympathetic looks. Kyle -his best man- Kevin, Travis, and Amir -the groomsmen- try to reassure him and cheer him up. The church doors burst open, and he looks up, hopeful.

It's beginning to get stiflingly hot in the broken down car. Violet's dress is beginning to stick to her, despite Vivien and Constance's fanning. Her hair is beginning to curl at the ends, and she's on the verge of tears. This is NOT how she pictured her wedding day. She thinks of Tate, her poor sweet Tate, and her family and friends waiting for her at the church. Addie's door opens suddenly, letting in a whoosh of humid southern air. "So sorry for the wait, miss. The other car has finally arrived." It's the Langdon family driver, Bernard. Violet throws her own door open and tumbles out. She lifts her skirts so they don't drag in the dirt and runs to the other car. Her mother and soon to be in-laws follow at a much more proper and ladylike pace. They gracefully slide into their seats, and as soon as their doors are firmly shut and their lap belts fastened, Violet shouts at Bernard to drive.

Larry Harvey, the town's sheriff stands in the doorway of the church, panting. Tate abandons his place at the altar and runs to the man. "What's happened? Who's hurt? Is Violet alright?" Harvey shakes his head. "Car...run off the road..." Tate shakes the man. "What? Spit it out! Where is my fiancé?!" Despite the terrified expression on the sheriff's face, Tate feels nothing except a rising panic. Harvey finally catches his breath and explains. "Their car was run off the road. They hit a tree. The driver, Ms. Harmon, and your sister died on impact." Ben is suddenly at Tate's side, holding him up as his legs give out. The church is empty save for Tate's anguished cry and Ben demanding that Harvey to repeat his statement. "The driver, your daughter, and Mr. Langdon's sister...they didn't survive the crash." Ben lets Tate fall to the floor. He just stares blankly out the open chapel doors. He can't believe that any of it is real. "What about my wife?" Ben asks, sounding utterly broken. "She has a broken arm, and few bruises, but she appears to be fine, physically. Mrs. Langdon has only minor injuries as well." Ben breathes a sigh of relief through his tears.

Violet is practically bouncing up and down in her seat, ignoring the disapproving looks from her mother and almost mother in law. She can't help herself, though. Everything is back on track and she'll be getting married today and tomorrow she and Tate will be on their way to California for their honeymoon. Then the car is hit from the side. Everything is wrong side up and they're spinning and Addie's seat is completely crushed and she can't see Addie at all. She calls out for her but there's a tree smashing through her side of the car and she hurts everywhere and the two older women are screaming and she's calling for her Mama and her Daddy and her Tate, she wants Tate, needs him, but she can't see anymore, can't feel anymore, can't breathe, can't... can't

She dies with his name on her lips.

"Violet!" He screams. Nora is holding him, but for the first time her motherly embrace doesn't comfort him. "Hush, sweet boy. It's going to be alright." She strokes his hair the way she has since he was young, and lets him soak her neck and the shoulder of her dress with his tears. "But...she's all I want. She's all I have!" Nora doesn't have a response to give him. There are no words at a time like this. "I know, sweet boy. I know," she soothes, and he whimpers like a little boy.

Tate's sitting on the church steps, watching their friends and family milling about in the yard. This was supposed to be a happy day, one to cherish and remember for the rest of their lives. He'll remember, but not for the reasons he should. What should have been a beautiful wedding is now more like surprise funeral. Ben left over an hour ago to check on Vivien and Constance, but Tate can't bring himself to move. He stopped crying awhile ago, and now his eyes are bloodshot, with deep purple coloring under them. He just wants to go back to a few hours ago, when everything was okay. He wants to see Violet one last time, to kiss her and hold her and laugh with her. He wants to spend forever with her, and he's beginning to get an idea of how he can do that. The thought almost puts a smile on his face.

Vivien and Ben let him pick the engraving on her tombstone. He keeps it short, and simple, but beautiful, always beautiful. Always the best for his Violet.

Violet Langdon

1 October 1945 - 15 June 1962

She died loved.

Constance is the one who finds Tate in the bathtub a week later, a smile on his face and his arms slit from wrist to elbow in the shape of a "V". They bury him in the tuxedo from his wedding, between Violet and Addie in a small, private ceremony.

Tate Langdon

12 May 1943 - 22 June 1962

Loving friend, brother, husband.