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September 11, 2011

Los Angeles, California

“My brave fire fighters,” Commander Tasha Williams said looking at the roomful of fire fighters sitting grimly in their blue uniforms, “on this day ten years ago, we went on the fastest jet to New York, to help the struggle in the Twin Towers. So many of our brothers and sisters died in that battle. Some of our people were never even found. Today we commemorate our fallen heroes, by giving them a moment of silence. And by sending a single white rose to the families they have left behind. Let us bow our head in prayer for their souls.”

The room was completely silent except for the crying of a few fire fighters in the room.

“Any words?” Tasha said softly.

A hand raised in the back and she pointed to it. The person stood up slowly, with a grim expression on her face.

“Hi,” she said softly, “I’m Captain Bette Porter. Ten years ago I lost the majority of my team in there. Including one of my best friends, Dana Fairbanks. We went back to save a ten year old boy who had lost his family and I was hit. Dana, sacrificed her life to get me out of there. She sacrificed her life for me, and for that little boy whom I raised myself.” She lifted a small key chain of a firetruck into the air and said, “she gave me this when we first started here. I keep it with me always, to remember her in my heart forever.”

Bette was at tears at this point as were many of the other fire fighters who knew Dana well.

Tasha sighed sadly and said, “to Dana Fairbanks. God rest her soul.”

The ceremony filed out soon, and everyone went to their stations. Shane walked out next to Bette and said, “nice speech.”

“I miss her,” Bette sighed.

“I do too,” Shane said, “everyday.”

“It should have been me ya know?”

“Shut up Bette,” Shane said.

“No Shane, I mean she left so much behind! A wife and a child. I don’t have any of that,” Bette cried.

“Bette, if you would have gone that day, Robbie would have gone to foster care and ended up all fucked up like me.”